hide Then of course I wouldn't mind if he looked through our ride man No uh, I'd really rather you didn't and no we don't have guns hidden We stood
know that much" "This isn't bullshit, my friend" "Do you know somethin'?" "Don't listen" "What'd you know?" "Maybe I do and maybe I don't" "What I say
If bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks, Then niggas ain't shit but hoes with dicks (REPEAT 2X) Murderous verses, Motherfuckers won't even make it
doc, ready to rock-rock Don't stop Hobbes, I known like the lumberjack chop chop The wordsmith, I write in block letters of cursive Curse my circus, serve
parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail If our eyes we'd close then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see It wasn't much fun but the only
a star You couldn't guess that she could take you that far Some things are so hard to say Even though you'd say them every day Don't let your life be
was intact / I voluntarily refuse to remenisce / If I could choose any wish...I'd lose my genesis / And prove to my nemesis that I don't need Memory
cursed, I'm eatin' first Had these hoes like, he's the worst My peeps is thirst', release the curse or get smacked Better run and get your man even though he don't
this shit right here Boom, and this, ya know what I'm sayin'? Any color you want But it'd be like, blue and cream, ya know what I'm sayin'? Shit like that, niggaz don't
my ass don't sing Got a house arrest anklet but it don't bling bling The homie with a cell but that shit don't ring But at lights out bars clang and
got, couldn't feel any worse It's like I'm possessed, under some kind of curse Temperature on rise, I can't close my eyes (I can't sleep at night and
dye, is this shit right here Boom, and this, yaknowhatI'msayin? Any color you want But it'd be like, blue and cream, yaknowhatI'msayin? Shit like that, niggaz don't
O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspektah Deck M.E.T.H.O.D. (Man), the B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius.. It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za
.O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspektah Deck M.E.T.H.O.D. (Man), the B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius.. It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za
been running) I'm exhausted (Ohh yeah) My feet hurt (I don't...) Wanna run no more (I don't....) Wanna run no more (I don't know what's a bed) They said
'm hitting ya blocks, spinning as heavy as SUVs doing 360 I'm ready as ever, over due like the rain in New York Sustained a steady fan base, but you still don't
some gratitude, you don't want me gettin' mad at you Had a few people say my music was a joke The industry was clownin' me and I ain't losin' hope yo