worse Sworn to rebellion, but it could be so much worse What's left to scream about? Why am I losing my voice? This bullshit angst it's just a
much worse Sworn to rebellion, but it could be so much worse What's left to scream about? Why am I losing my voice? This bullshit angst it's just
muthafucka And killed his ass just like Jesse James Think it's a muthafuckin' game? I come around this muthafucka and kill yo ass just like Jesse James What's
s at home He always hears voices when he's all alone His wife took the kids, the car and the crib In this man's world, so much for Women's Lib New
sweet, be a part of summer slayin' Most hate it, most doubt it, that's what they shout it I'm on top now, there's nothing they can do about it They
hear about what I do About what I smoke What I drink What I cook for my husband All the travels I do All the shit I got for free It's just like it's
wash you up Yall supporting these lost artists like they the Godfather That?s word to my Aunt Margaret None of they bars honest Talking about you New York?s
the King of the Underground, so act like you know me Homie, we big steppin', big reppin' We givin' kids Smith & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a sketchin' Left
No use worrying about what you missed Cause here it is baby it don't get better than this --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Birthday When is you birthday? What's your middle name? Who's your hero? What's
crew Why you talkin' that whoopied doo whoo I'm makin' moves that's smoother than the cream Or the sweat from a wet dream drippin' wit Vaseline My Mabeline left
the Brooklyn Bridge is going to collapse yo Yo, this is Wyclef Jean the Refugee Allstars up in here The CNN for the world Yo what's this I here about
Gs on my neck It's B do you feel the pressure yet I'm MJ what do you seck his left Yesss! [Chorus] [Verse 3: Ginuwine] It's plain pressure and I know
like you know me (Next up!) [Kool G. Rap:] Feel me... Homie, we big steppin, big reppin We givin kids Smith & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a sketchin Left
you up Ya'll supporting these lost artists like they the Godfather That's word to my Aunt Margaret None of they bars honest Talking about you New York's
sweet Be apart of summer slayin' Most hate it most doubt it That's what they shout it I'm on top now, there's nothing they can do about it Ya'll better
the crew Why you talkin that whoop dee whoo I'm makin moves, that's smoother than the cream or the sweat from a wet dream drippin wit' Vaseline My Mabeline left