I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head
can of pennzoil I'm revved up, who said what would lead bust ur head would just explode With red stuff i'm hand cuffed tossed in the paddy wagon Braggin
' pick you up, when ya flight land We in a tight jam Me and Diddy fam sorta like his right hand I touch down like two-thirty If i was on you, your hoe
The mic, this mic in my hand, I'm ruling So prepare your mind for my lifeline And meet the new Queen of Royal Badness Latifah has the spirit so head
street Nevertheless, we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless, we split your head and your
, I flex my Bentley wings Damn, over your head, got a problem Keepin' lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve 'em But the game's extreme so quit your
the set in other words, I'm in effect Grab your cassettes, hit your rewinds and your ejects Tell your friends that Ak is back and Ak is def Another head
eyes see the blood That mean the creep start workin' Niggas never learnin' that They eyes keep lurkin' Have ya janitor Pumpin' your X 5 merkin' Skid marks the street Your
Have you marked for death, you're whole family gone Got 'em pounds of that green, we call it the Hawks D-Block, one time, we call it New York Get money
your craft-matic Before you be sueing doc for malpractice You couldn't bang from start Your girl see you beat up and shit Get a change of heart Flaming dark spit it, name a mark
windows, I'm puffin' like Diddy Ridin' 'cause the haters face mad, team gritty Honk your horn twice if your missies lookin' pretty Well, if you run wit your
$hort Fuckin' with Too $hort, Too $hort (Bitch) Too $hort, Too $hort Now fuck around and get a 5 finger hand plant Straight across your face To make
I keep it tight, best to believe I'm moving right Keep my business on the low, you best to believe I'm outta sight I like money, money, money, girls
' left but your word and your balls And you're stressed from the calls of your new friends Beggin' with their hands out, checkin' for your record when
'll hang you Danish darts, language arts, slanger banger you Punk motherfucka... [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] All you talk is poor... All of your fushu, I got gats, Ghostface that But your
block, I assist quarters, but I'm really a scorer Place your order, place your bets, I'll erase your set Puncture your lung and inflate your chest I keep
can't find nuthin' better so whatever Bring it the front and put your money by your mouth Find your teeth and cash coming out I bring drama to your
