Once again it's on, so bring that shit Now the war is on against the counterfeit We got the five man clan to keep the mic in check But now you're steppin
What you got What you got What you got You better buck, buck, buckle up, prepare for this impact Car crash whiplash, 'Bam', snap your neck back in half
you better check your pulse, i think the hearse went by shut the fuck up and listen before you're down to nothing without a pot to piss in your missing
Prepare to meet your maker Your unmaker, your remaker make yourself Don't fake, you'll make the same mistakes And if you are fed up then ask yourself
is anybody out there? have you been lost in the sky? do you really need a miracle to open your eyes? take a look around, mother fucking fantasy rides
welcome to my revelation, reanimation my anthem of regret- two steps from my evisceration my destination- where the rain meets the dust and my only separation
A wooden cross, an angel's bed Decked with nails and strewn in red And empty garden, our dooming fate Which day by day we tolerate A ruined world, a gaping
In the lac jumping trying to pop a dang willy See I'm just Los, that's all I ever be Y'all remember me from the what Reveille Ex girl Beverly, A-B-C-D
I'm murdering, I'll destroy any earthling Choking on his own blood, gargling and gurgling Step to me, you better be hard I know you motherf**kers remember me from Reveille
like my jefe Tropa F, soy el S P M for my jente Creeping my carrucha, banging screw They want me on the billboard to say got leche Remember me from Reveille
[Rasheed] Ma, I'm sorry for the things I did And god, thanks for all the times you let me live I should of been dead a long time ago Should of been me
ahhh ahhh ahh damn that pussys good ahhh [RING RING] if i dont answer she will como damn my fucking phone ahh what u doin nuthin call me back ah dont
(JC) We had met, through a friend and then (uh huh, uh huh) Thought we'd be together to the very end (uh huh, uh huh) My partners told me you was about
(Intro: Uchie) It's for real, they want to know why all these haters is talking about me and talking nonsense, This is Uchie with my man Filero Dopehouse
[South Park Mexican talking] For my nigga, Filero on this biatch Uh, yo, pick up the music a little bit Man it's real man, here we go Yo, what's up, what
[Verse 1] The game on tilt Dope House what I built Beans get spilt and niggas get killed Sleepin on silk 'cause you head got peeled Caught the hot slug
SPM: Smoke on the kill popped up on three wheel want another peel naw nigga I'ma chill gone off the X its the SP-Mex just made 2 twenty-thousand dollar
[Verse 1] I'm meetin up with the governor 3-2 and the Hillwood Hustla Comin straight out the head though From the brain representin my ghetto Its a trip