growin' up, eight turned to seven Seven turned to six niggaz, got two in heaven Six of us, holdin' it, now it's five rollin' thick The sixth one's parole flipped, five
everything five and six Height five six, jeans five six, benz green five and six keep me five or sixed We know dice hit want cream fold, for two green five
hit the spot fuck it, mad bro to bar Fuck crack, flip powder, I ain't takin' a loss Plus if I get snatched, it's less time for the song I always been
and work my hardest But when I took my song to a record producer He told me that I better go drink some rap juice or Something because my song was really
uterus back On my lap, in the jet to miami and back When I tear through new school, all y'all records is whack I'm from q, for quiet killers And u know
Alotta people think It's been candy Sweet and dandy It can be Minus all the envy And all these underground cats Wanna slam me Yeah I admit I been quiet
my hum on Actually I get hummed on Hoes tongues be on my dong dong ??? long, head at night, head in the morn Lunatic, five strong, king kong's are writin songs
No matter what you're living in It's time to win Keep us in the four walls of our childrens will be quiet Most of us ain't even democratic or Republic
right there, That's way more than I needed to know!" And then we both were quiet And things got real intense Then she says "Next window please, That'll be five
signin' wit Jigga I got rappers gettin' mad at me I got these new jack rappers tryna clap at me I got these corny wanna be diss song kings on the radio
m signin' wit Jigga I got rappers gettin' mad at me I got these new jack rappers tryna clap at me I got these corny wanna be diss song kings on the radio
if you could take her. Peace, my number's on the back of the paper, hit me later." Damn.. what went wrong? Can't we all just get along, and make hit songs
played the role of a slouch Just watchin to see how Jasmine played herself out They sat there just talkin to each other I thought this kid was alone he had five
Show you how it's done Mr. Lil One style Ain't no need to lie The truth is inside of you Ain't no need to trip Cause I'll fuck up all five of you Still
uterus back On my lap, in the jet to Miami and back When I tear through new school, all y'all records is whack I'm from Q, for Quiet Killers and U know
the Denim cologne Then I called up Earl on the telephone He told me 'bout a jam that I could do later on 10 g's plus a limo for one strong song So I said
growin up, eight turned to seven Seven turned to six niggaz, got two in heaven Six of us, holdin it, now it's five rollin thick The sixth one's parole flipped; five