it is Till that money step in that's just the way it is I escape poverty, I don't own jewelry Mother*** I own property You can send dem Tsunamis that hit Indonesia B-b
Music has past gone by hopefully you don't manifest For the wrong guy Egomaniac, in the Brainiac Don't know how to act, shits deep Forty eight tracks studio gangsta
and losin' some of yourself Music has past gone by Hopefully you don't manifest for the wrong guy Egomaniac in the brainiac, don't know how to act Shits deep, 48 tracks, studio gangsta
when the stereos pump me. I like to rhyme, I like my beats funky, I'm spunky. I like my oatmeal lumpy. I'm sick wit dis, straight gangsta mack but
, son? What's really hood, son? The word is bond, shit is real, shit is real Yo son, this block is dead Nigga need to go over here and pop off real quick
ain't tripping on sounds scan a beat DS It's easy to find with or without your GPS And now we riding next Biden on Obama Go ask the hustlers, the gangsters
from Texas [Bun B] It's Big Bun king of the trill, woodgrain gripping From the land of candy paint, where them boys ain't tripping See, Texas is the home of Screw music
'mon) Uhh, gangsta mental, stay poppin Cristal Pack a black pist-al in the Ac' Coupe that's dark brown (whoo!) Pinky-ringin, gondolas wit the man singin Italian music
Uhh, gangsta mental, stay poppin Cristal Pack a black pist-al in the Ac' Coupe that's dark brown (whoo!) Pinky-ringin, gondolas wit the man singin Italian music
y'know? Word (Nas is coming) Fuck it What is it, what is it God? (Nas is coming) Let's get together, make some fuckin' music Right, that's what I'm sayin
in the mix Tryin' to separate the real from the counterfeit tricks Counterfeit cliques go platinum, on the real cats starve But that's how the industry is, how the music
Ain't no way you 'bout To stop this sickness from the deepest darkest Part of misery psycho alpha schizo Get your chick she digging me A.B.S.O.L.U.T.
the busters and snitches B-Real and Miss Muggs is like Hollywood bitches From the niggas I know in the streets I run through Swear to God bitch, real
more respect from the mutha-fuckin' dope man The Grammy's and the American music shows pimp us like hoes They got dough but they hate us though You better keep your mind on the real
In the cpt I said my life , my life , my life Hoo-bangin gangstas Check it out [ verse 3 ] In the 6-6-6 5-0 trey or deuce Real g's draggin it low with
that gangsta dance walk, walk, walk, walkowww yea,yea pull em up, pull em up, pull em down B-CAAA ooowww yeeaa let me get them size 46, yea B-CAAAA
Alert, assassins at large allegedly Automatic artillery, angrily aimed and aggressively Accurate AK's angled all ways Adversary afraid as active ammunition abraise Accumulated an alias after arrested Accompanied armed accessory, as an adolescent (B