mine; I'm double- clutchin
pushin quarters like niggaz doin dope deals
Fo' cut 50 like a verse and a half
I cut the brick and now we countin the math,
Have a seat you through when I'm finished,
Got 'em posted out in Brooklyn,
Hollis Queens to the Bridge
We in the studio the Figgaro done
We got factors out in the ditch
where they smackin a bitch
I got homies out in the Bronx
where they bustin at cops
It ain't no game with the underground,
came from the underground
Pushin a hundred thousand,
we out the trunk, never browsin
JT, another boss from the Bay
And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre,
JT, another boss from the Bay
And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre,
(Nina B) Hey yo it seem to me like
e'rybody got they own truth
I play the game I was born to score
But I'm a lil' too cute for
A little too, known, to stand on the block
Eastside, yup yes that side
Heads fly if I open ya chest that wide
Gimme a bad vibe end up on
Or you can get your back and side
splatted in back of ya ride
And I can make it happen,
if I don't make it rappin
This lump of Satan I'm packin thrash
I slash ya face and fracture
you flashin in the latest fashion
And have you dashin from Manhattan
heard your tape and had to take an aspirin
Listen, before I get up in the mornin
I ask the Lord for strength
Tryin to get my niggaz out the hood,
you know how the forces get
It's like the devil got a hold
And I'm gettin this change runnin
Momma used to look at me funny; she
could tell her baby boy changed
Must be out there gettin some money
But it's a price for everything,
For them birds niggaz'll cock
Now you introduced to the beef,
Bitch up, skid in your crib,
A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake
(another Get Low male) Fuck what'chu heard,
I hit the spot like a {?} in
On some eighty- eight shit,
It's not my fault she looked at me - you
That's just, part of the game
Who got nerve cause Lethal
And, why y'all Chucks always
You must be trippin or you
it's different from one time
What's your bloodline, play the
And I don't even know why
I oughta be like Makaveli and
I keep that good shit it's tastin so fresh
niggaz yo y'all makin a mess
We on the way to yo' nap,
so put your tapes in the deck
And spit in a hundred bars straight without breakin a sweat