Now stop it you're exaggerating Stop, wait a minute Stop, sinking in it Oh, not again Now stop it you're exaggerating Stop, stop, stop Go, go Stop go, go, stop
dying but I will not die Somebody save me from myself Somebody save me Stop, wait a minute Stop, sinking in it Woe, not again Now stop it you're exaggerating Stop
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am dying but I will not die Somebody save me from myself Somebody save me Stop, wait a minute Stop, sinking in it Woe, not again Now stop it you're exaggerating Stop
dying but i will not die Somebody save me from myself Somebody save me Stop, wait a minuite Stop, sinking in it Woe, not again Now stop it you're exaggerating Stop
Suicidal thoughts, highway to heaven riding like a boss Condominium in the clouds, 60g's a month 50 floors, marble walls, pictures of Boston Georgia Bitches snortin' blow, f-ckin fast and cookin' dope
second maybe second Maybe third in the worst case Now we'll display On my word plays Moving weight It's such a trap Move and weight You can't do that I know i'm dope
been second maybe third in the worst case Now it's displayed in my wordplays Moving weight, it's such a trap Move and wait, you can't do that I know i'm dope
J.D., you know about the L.B.C. My niggaz love the stellas, cold-hearted killers Real cap pealers, real niggaz feel us Ain't no squealers, a lot of dope
belong in Vintage clothes watching the whole building you belong with n-ggas who used to be known for dope dealing you too dope for any of those civilians now shoot trigga, stop
aint heard, used serve five bird like a Pontiac rewind me back and you know where they used to find me at in the backsacks filling something for insomniacs dope
right in front of a pimp Fuck you income you better twice that shit You niggas make a million dollar but still manage to sink I can stop for 10 years
said lightning could strike From the same place twice, I have your head on my death 1500, tonights your last night gettin blunted "The voices could not be stopped
death on the streets and we dealt it Van Ness Boys, The Hoovers, The 60's Bounty Hunters, 8-Treys, all coolin' out, gee I pray the shit'll never stop
Kick it You start to think and wonder bout how it's done "An emcee? Maybe I could be one" Drop the thought, get a job, change your mind To be a dope
or the street game I still got hoes that'll work, still got crews that'll hit Still roll with an extra clip And those who think they'll stop me, doubt
with freestyle High tech selections from the vaults of the ice files Kick back relax and watch as I melt wax Don't ever let a brother like me Ride a dope
