blade's a little sharper Fuck Peter Parker, I cross you like a magic marker Everytime I hit I always hit a little harder Blazing to the point where niggaz look a
on my head or row a boat across the atlantic ocean again and though sometimes i am sitting at the desk, or at a table eating dinner and there is some
I just took off a couple of years, But Now I'm back on my day to day, Old school, Gucci frames like day to day, Who gone tell New york times up, Flava
streets to a player is the place to be Gotta knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand I'm a self-made monster
time being y?all I sacrifice and have a life modest, a coupla luxuries it?s cutting my budget schemes and getting some stuff for free Like why?s a brother need a
itch you gotta sin Now just wanna be like mu suburbia friends But instead I got a thug, yeah I got a thug, I got a thug The streets taught me how to thug Wait a
cats are amazing Most rappers are foul and flagrant [Planet Asia] I keep rhymes on floss, retardedly smart Wit fine-printed sheets folded A book of such pages, a
don't mock. The last bird who mocked he got caught in my roughneck chicken pot. So Mr Rooster give me a crookedy croo at 6am He looked at me a laughin' said my music
use every time 50 on stage singing like Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit Niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit On my album 50 helped me just a
12 bars for that bitch he won't live through that Even a nigga with a ten-year bid knew that Put a gun in his mouth yeah, yeah do that He a pussy (sniff
D (titties) My thugs throw it up if you a G off in yo (city) Fuck a nigga (try to rob me) had to get a bust a (missi) {Wait a minute Mothafuclka} Then