Lyrics:
Slaves On Dope I Can T Die

, at night I hear grown man cryin' You know I'm spittin' mine, I ain't goin' out here, we gotta win Everytime I hear the wind I think a slug went in I

sober when I speak I call it catchin' bullets with my teeth You can feel it in your chest Like Bruce Lee jumpin' on your vest But I can't feel yours

to sell more records than me boy I can't complain boy don't say my name boy I'm like a run away slave I'm off the chain boy I'm bout' to jet boy straight

pockets fat I make a lot of money and it ain't no lie I'll probably ball til the day I die And if I didn't, so what? I bet you I'd still come up 'Cause

what you get for tellin niggaz that you better than 'Bis Not possible - if I can't pronounce it, it ain't rhymable The audible probability probably ain't

children Even though he be eating like he Silician! (whooo!) [kids ovation] I sweat brilliance, I shit genius You on fire till I come by you and extinguish! I'm distinguised! - I

wack, can't get with the pro-black Program that's designed to educe thought Rhymes ya bought keep Panthers taught Punks stay put skinheads are flatfoot Keys are played as I

get by Just wanna hold my son [my man] but I can't leave my house until I load my gun I gotta grab my sword and when I die I got some things I wanna ask

I'm a hustler, act like I'm lovin' ya Don't mind fuckin' ya, just like the Governor Used to be the dope man, rolled a hundred spokes man When I come through