The law's closing in on me... Just made a BOLO list Hear this confessional These are the tales of the mean fist The tales of the mean fist And to
some positive shit but I still walk greasy aint nothin changed, still aint sweet stand on one block, but I own the whole street and on the whole street
friends [x4] [Verse 2:] I love it when they call me big poppa I only smoke blunts if they rolled propa Look I gots ta catch the first thing smokin the
broke All I want is the money my cash flow And I'm leaving on the first thing smoking out to Cleveland We gotta get even Even if it means I got to stop
then we were treated like dogs and wasn't shit And slowly but surely the shit changed From they fault,but if you black, then you get blamed A damn shame, that means
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls Lil' children, dogs and cats Right now, you are listening to the incredible drum patterns of DJ Mannie fresh, fresh
Use to walk up say a little somethin take everythin a brother got just to speak You know she aint even gonna holla at you you know what I mean If a brother
glance at the 'Kiss 'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist Phonin' your women, drunk off Corona's and lemon And you know I'm still writin' the mean
is chirpin' (Hi neighbor) Niggas walkin' they dogs, ha ha, watering they flowers That's my neighborhood, fuck no I'm from the streets of the BX Boro
Ok ladies and gentlemen This is Insane Clown Posse Another Love Song Phat or Wack? Yeah, I mean I hear what your sayin I mean you got carried away
into the street slangin them tapes Shoutout to Double A and the money he makes Esham, my dogs runnin on the east side My street gang's grown, muthafucka
at you mean carkas is thru The A.R. better stay in this car 'Cause I'm parkin it to Don't hate Brim cause I'm talking the truth My dogs is barking at
up to bat Witness the truth, niggas can't fuck with that Fuck those who disagree like these streets ain't mine Like the Roc don't mean somethin', glock
thats just a warnin before I'm swarmin ? ? ? ? always first at bombin Fool we tryin to Do thangs Who bang with connect gang Bang or ball Slang or brawl nigga Road dogs
they love it, rugged/ Put 'em all in the bucket/ Busted, lyrical killa to get dusted (Dusted) I can tell how you bite my style, you can mean good/ But
get bonkers Collabo' wit my dogs from Yonkers But this Bronx bomber's spittin' flame So you better wear your armor flame on My dogs gon' stop, your dogs
player in this game we be So go blame the referee don't complain to me And I used to have a cutless on stainless feet Passing all day up in Latoya street
my past like greek ruins yet his seek keeps bloomin' Uneffected by police intrusions Or street illusions we were consumed with I've even grown away from people I grew with I mean
