Up nigga Will-Lean you riding (Yeah, I'm riding) B.G. Duke you riding (Yeah I'm riding) Z-Ro, you riding (Yeah, I'm riding) Point Blank, you riding
Hitched a ride to central station Revelation in my head Ditched the pride, ditched the label But the fire isn't dead Never really had it easy But I wouldn
through divine contact The synpase to climb a syntax error/era, define clever We find Trademark's photo ID below the letters Your rhymes are general played, minimal blank
When I stomp the night I'm obsessed by the Tec's Have money and sex Old respect, check my rep Cuz I'm one of the best Wanna label me a threat Cuz I invade
love to go and browse through the ride report But ain't a car in that motherfucker I could afford See niggas trying to block the road Later then my label
they your homies, but they bury motherfuckers Dog I'm going through it daily, fiending for a killa to take me out What am I living for, nothing but a record label
(feat. Trick Daddy) [Verse 1] I'm not a thug No, no, no, no I'm not a gangsta But I won't hesitate To cock back, bust and point blank ya Lord thank ya
trippin' but I can't drop her Cause I need somethin' to balance out the fact That it's hard to find a woman when you talented and black When you hollerin' at labels
rainforest unstable Rawkus was like, "we're gonna take this label to another level" (fuck that) I'm gonna take this level to another label Anti-pop composer
. And different is not what you're looking for. You're looking for those teenage alpine ski chiselled features, and that sort of blank look which passes
a point where we all said end it We all said the same but no one wanted to admit it Living the stable, running into a label Back to square one, all cards
this When me and her seem to be dynamic opposites I need to categorise I need to give it a name I have a need to label things that I can?t explain It
Its all another phase turning the page in the book of growing up She's has seen a lot of sex He tried to hide his resentment But their wasn't nothing thing left for them to label
(feat. Big Pokey, Tyte Eyez) [talking] Uh what, two triple Getting it how we live, Wreckshop Chevis, independent labels uh (the Hardest Pit is off the
get all the coochie in the middle of the poochie They got hella booty and heavily faced; make a few down every time a blank It?s really a small thing,
non-negotiable wrote, choking left throats broken I'm not sociable but I'm open to smoke you into lotion Millenniums might appear before your sight clears Point blank
to the cold One night stands, the exploding glands Keeping warm together by the sweat of our hands There's better babes on the way And shots of tap from a bottle labeled