Ayo my whole clique bout it, 'bout it We take yours while you pout about it Truck, step out the whore's wanna' crowd around it You could see me on optimum
what it's costing Yo, yo, pressure bust pipes, it's time to apply it now Pick out a quiet town and tie it down Make niggaz lock it down, y'all know where
me In physical form, let it be known, I'm troublesome All ya niggas die, put it down to the fullest Spittin' rhymes and bullets, troublesome, I know
Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. One two y'all, uhh Uhh, uhh, yo (Check it out) Easy livin', bitches givin' pussy like it's free My GS3 gleams
My style's knock-kneed plum crazy (What?) Who's that wild ass motherfucker catchin' wreck Stickin' Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques It's Klep the death
Where it at, where it at Where it at, where it at Where it at, where it at Oh do he rhyme with a slug from the shots in his face or Do he rhyme wit a
gangstas rocked waves sold dope and sniffed lo' There was a young G by the name of Shyne Poe Puttin' it down, cuttin' it up and cookin' it now It's
prefer? His and hers [unverified] and villas, dope dealers and killers Who keep it real-a, chase paper fuck bitches they'll always be there Burn blocks, bust
knife is It's a shame but it's real when your enemies like ya When ya come through and fishtail in Hennessey Viper Listen, it ain't the rappers, it'
you're cooking them rocks We all got our own ways of making the green You do whatever it takes to get up onto the scene I do what I do, staying true to
can flow on tempo, off tempo, it makes me no difference So play that beat, play it, kick it, watch me Flip it with dope lyrics, you want to hear it?
set-trippin' 'Cause it's Death Row, rollin' like the mafia Think about whoopin' some ass, but what the fuck stoppin' ya? Ain't nathin' but a buster I'm stranded on death
t choke If you do, you'll have no clue On what me and my homey Snoop Dogg came to do It's like this, and like that, and like this, and uh It's like that
death, we rep to death Step aside little {niggaz}, show time yep It's goin down the moment we inside the spot Let's rock'n'roll, you know the M.O., it
saxon, caucasian, low-life - the no money broke life The subway cup holders, street corners Constantly look over you shoulders It's official; we dirty, crusty till death do us, or does us It
got too many deaths And I'm trying to find the way out the selexta (AHHHHH!) Jokes folks telling me gotta to bless ya I ain't trying to Busta Rhymes,
on nigga now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on Now it's on ...