why What? Where? Who? you think you fly Im up there too you fly? I flew Im up there too you know they say two Is better than one time im a pimp pimping
* Fuckin' brain's brawn, and brass balls I cut 'em off, i got 'em pickled and bronzed in a glass jar Inside of a hall, with my framed autograph, Sunglasses
Here's the story, of a little boy. Growin' up in a suburban home, Trying to cope with everyday life, Who lives in a little house, That was built, in the
a bullet with your face on it --- I shot a Warhol Dead with my pistol When the wind hit the hole In the canvas it whistled Beautiful with no frame A
that You could bring your whole squad and your bodyguard Fuck it dog, you could bring ya block But I got me a AK, and a couple of them SK's So you all
hit dude up And you aint shit if you aint never been screwed up [x2] We drop the top down and chunk the duece up These 84s would make a hatta put his shoes up
a bitch and then you die Life's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high 'Cause you never know when you're gonna go Life's a bitch and then you
you a long time ago you fuckin' little monkey not to fuck me" "Hey hey, who the fuck you think you going for huh?" "Who the fuck you think I am, your fuckin
the sheet, and cook a beat till it's done I get paid when I rap, this not a freestyle bro I got a paid style, not a freestyle flow Ten three for the
still a few things There's still a few things, still a few things That we keep on believing Still a few things There's still a few things That we keep
Be so much bloodshed, you think I'm a Crip Even before I signed the contract, always was respected Couldn't give a fuck if a sold another record I ain
get loose like a pair of pajamas I speak through those switches, spit like Obama Trying to get rich without guns and the scanner Thats A to the K with a fucking
[Planetary] Yo, serious syllable wordplay, verse spray Like a desert bird blaze, niggaz, where the curb lay Turn plagen, pretty shitty on a church
The metal inside the barrel passes Through the frames in ya glasses Quick passage Leave your dome piece backless Envision blackness Leave you hatless Fucking
frame You know my name, V-A's invincible Mad Skillz Intoxicatin rappers like eight million Advils You comin black, bring your lyrics, fuck a gat Don't play, every real nigga in V-A
the answers You should fuck exotic dancers You should grow a pair of tits and some antlers It doesn't matter, turn it up, what the fuck you think that
feeling right about now On the way to the curb how does it feel to be a jerk Now you find your's if chewed And fuck up like a prostitute Pure
a soulja hell, ever since I was a little nigga Havin' fantasies of one day getting older Niggas is paranoid trust a no no Love is a mystery, fuck tha