Tekster:
Curb Job

There'e no way I'm gonna feed your face Aaaoh I'm gonna give you a curb job Aaaoh I'm gonna break your face Aaaoh I'm gonna give you a curb job Aaaoh

bone There'e no way I'm gonna feed your face Aaaoh I'm gonna give you a curb job Aaaoh I'm gonna break your face Aaaoh I'm gonna give you a curb job

not polite They realize you gotta get some people uptight Speak the word, your voice will definitely be heard Lie to yourself, you're destined to be to the curb

roof's on fire? Let the motherfucker burn Mo Thug, ThugLine, Bone Thug, it's your turn Slap these niggaz with a pistol grip and lay 'em on the curb [

a moment goes by That I don't pray to the sky, please I'm beggin' You, God Please don't let me be pigeon holed in no regular job Yo I hope you can hear

and stress sandwich. It's an ambush, turn no pad to canvas, Ain't it an art words paintin' worth paintin' my heart. New york to la, younge street to robson, We get the job

niggaz better have they glocks cocked off Ready to blast off and get yo ass popped off With 10 hot ones when I draw from [unverified] When I smash off over there It's blood on the curb

couple hundred stacks Far from peaches and cream, niggas deceased on the scene I'm just countin' my green, chillin sippin' my li Keep investigatin' 'cause you got a job

Don't say nothin' just listen Got me a plan to break Tyson out of prison You going my way you get served Still got a deuce that'll bunny hop the curb