on your forehead With more force than porn sex It's the budhist monks, with the certified mc's I'll make you nod your head like Parkinson's disease
tight I light an L I ring your bells so go tell 'cause it's the ill figure Timberland boots, Rolex, with a Benz Diggy Das EFX snap necks with PMD
so hood, (I love your girl) Lil' mama stay fly (I love your girl) Wife beater with the denim (I love your girl) She keeps them heels on high, (I love your
or Mickeys I'll put your head out just like a fuckin' Marlboro Don't fuck with me punk you know that I'm thorough Bred like a race horse right in your
from rockin' From tonight to ten o'clock in the morning Got neighbor's knockin' (Turn it down) Fuck 'em, go call them cops and Watch dem' pigs walk and start boppin' Heads to what that DJ
your eardrum Forty five bar seminar ghetto rap star Slide like water rats through the Staten Resevoir Swingin' swords cut your mic cords, snatch your rap
I N Y and what, head or gut? The head rush will 'cause your cerebellum to bust We be the world's most fabulous, hazardous to fuck with these ravenous
crap, cause like herpes I'm back To give you what you want, I don't front or skip rap With the bo, ba-ba-bye, the wicked with tha likwit I'm wild like a winner with
love to be found [The Game] I?m feeling like a black Democrat, Barack Obama but the only nigga that can catch Osama Spray lambas and get good head and fuck fly bitches with
says, "Fuck Christina" but meaner So from doin' a song with Method to beggin' to get accepted I'm peggin' Fred with the bottle of dye that he bleached his head with
, sit back and spark an idea Figure you can diss me to jump start your career I punch you in your fuckin' chest 'til your heart kicks in gear (Bitch) And fuck your
give a taste of what you got [Verse 1] Man you killing it, I'm feeling it, you feeling it? We drill 'em with the cerebellum-swelling-sonics Surfing over snare snaps Psycho with syllables and same boy scratch My DJ is with
to Queens muthafuckas (What's up man? Heh, what's up nigga?) And I'll smack the fuckin' shit out your favorite DJ man Y'all know what the fuck it is
blame it on da Bay [Hook] If your hoe get fuck (You can blame it on da Bay) If your car get took (You can blame it on da Bay) If your boys get shot (
go and fuckin' rob a man Just so I can keep my fuckin' family fed Fuck what'cha heard this is what I said Bust out some shots at ya fuckin' head [LaChat
right behind me Throw a chump and run a man through da crowd He gonna give me sumthin Brap Rap my niggas And step em when K- Rocin Dont fuck with
street ass punk! yaint bout shit nigga! go get yo ass delt with bitch! Nigga gone get yo mufuckin ass put in a piledriver nigga. you cant fuck
ll send your soul to the atmosphere Fuck outta here, and your ring tone rap career It's Crooked I, the face of east side Long Beach Put your ear to the
