Before your hands and your feet,
We would stand on the street,
with our hands on our heat
Twelve grams, twelve feet away,
Of Reynold's wrap, one smack,
leave's your dentals back
Your voice get quiet like the voice
in the instrumental track
Slick from the lip lisp, son, sip the citrus
with the soul of The Whispers
On the block, we rock loud like The Pistols
my wiz drinkin' a Harvey's Bristol
Natural flavor, yours be artificial
like big nose through snotty tissue
when the dollar dollar bill is on
The thrill is gone... upgrade
That's birth of four billion,
It's not official until I smack the W,
From the valleys of Ohio,
Still hit, like the whirlwind kick of Ryu
still puzzled like the jigsaw
You renig', you get jinxed,
like trucks on the turnpike
just to see what it burns like
Architectural design, intellectual rhyme
movin' on a diagonal line
scholars they want the books back
The piece, they turn us off,
the moment they look back
Knights lose armor from the pressure,
And fire all these shots in the
and he posted on bad squares
The bass are minor pieces
those to make the saga continue
Before you check the credits,
It's real... it's real... it's real... it's real...