kept hid under the black fences Jakes shootin' through the middle, like Kerry Kittles I was baggin' up small hittin' fiends, with very little Though they
the enormous fields disperse of rap On the road to the riches more furs to drag More niggaz to kill, than birds to bag Hit the jeweler and splurge the
dude while he's slurping spaghetti Everybody kiss the fucking floor, Joey Crack, buck em all If they move, Noodles shoot that fucking whore Dead in the middle of Little Italy little
dude while he's slurpin' spaghetti Everybody kiss the fuckin' floor, Joey Crack, buck 'em all If they move, Noodles shoot that fuckin' whore Dead in the middle of Little Italy little
the, City of Angels and constant danger South Central L.A., can't get no stranger Full of drama like a soap opera, on the curb Watchin' the ghetto bird
't seein' Jack, shit Aiiyo, speak the truth Too short to let it hurt, some talk dirt And be the first slangin' hertz Freestylin' of the hum of the birds
spot to the same damn Dope fiends burnt up glass and the coke screens You know that balled up cash where that dough cream Hit the block before the birds
is everything working as we planned? GGh: Everything is working out, very nicely. Do you have the cash, twenty-thousand dollars? GZA: Be nice to have a little
than Luke when I run the block Fiends scream, "I wanna rock, I wanna rock, ock" I'm right in the curb, white and the herb And I got a nice price on the birds
the bling in the middle of your little chain In the drain, down it go, say they love the sound of those Chamilltary boys, we the ill est boys around here hoe Flyer than a bird
be that No you lying falsifying, when can we see facts Your raps would be phat, as soon as you pretend to be wack That, would be a little closer to
whole crew Nigga what? Nigga what? We hold it down like we s'posed to Nigga you can fuck if you want we be poppin' them thangs Yeah Slow down little
be a team And my flesh melts beneath your tongue I am your little comunion And all the rainbows Tell me that they know We're a perfect pair And the birds
a kid I done did the shit you talkin' about I'm from the South Ya heard? Where niggas fly birds outta Impalas Live lavish From ATL to Dallas An' the little
and tired of niggas lyin They fifth is lyin in they second drawer Next door to some bullshit they ironed Ya'll be makin up stories that them little kids
his steel dunn ask Jewels that he rocking Bone bracelet had laced kid Screaming on his neck Lex rocking Nigga had a fat lab Hundred bag, tools you had Ohh, little
spot to the same damn dope fiends burnt up glass and the coke screens you know that balled up cash where that dough cream hit the block before the birds
go to the ball with us. [LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD] And perhaps a sticky bun?... Or four?... [CINDERELLA] Birds in the sky, Birds in the eaves, I the