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Gettin' in where I fit in, right? |
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What that deuce, deuce poppin' like? |
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Baby, I like the way you work that tongue |
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You had a don't care nigga for 3 weeks sprung |
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It's the game, the muthafucka calls my name |
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Product made of yola 'cuz the rules don't change |
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The prettiest thing is new white wall tires |
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I shoulda been a lawyer 'cuz I'm such a good liar |
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Kill dosia style, brain child in a beanie |
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God fear a nigga under pressure and greedy |
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Microphone cops steady fuckin' off my dealings |
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Even when I'm workin', muthafuckas think I'm chillin' |
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Recruitin' like the army or even the marines |
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Some get rejected like black, jelly beans |
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I'm on the scene in my jeans, smokin' weed from a sac |
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Muthafucka, where you at? I got cocaine raps |
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Ya hardcore CB4 uproar made a nice comeback |
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But didn't touch my score |
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A Farrakhan listener, white world prisoner |
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My frisk down is just like the state pen for visitors |
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Ghetto red hots, guns, crack and macks, fly clubs |
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No love and cocaine raps |
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Spendin' ways incredible, money untraceable |
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Tiga's start to jack when the dope ain't available |
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Baby you talk too much, pass the blunt |
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I'm tryin', to give your fine ass the raw and uncut |
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I got no time to be a crybaby fool |
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Forgive me, but they got me packin' pocket tools |
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Fresh out say fuck 'em, yeah, I made a gang of raps |
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Smokin' weed in a rental with the gangsta tracks |
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Straight chewy, and a nigga got a gang of pride |
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Check the battle or the struggle through my Chinese eyes |
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Had to tighten up the fade, got my murder 1 shades |
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Still tryin' to fuck them freaks from my high school days |
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B. Adams, do you still love me? |
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'Cuz ya first born is strugglin' and it's hard to stay drug free |
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Cock back loaded and about to explode |
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Like the 12 story 'jects, bitch I'm outta control |
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Alpine reliant, police defiant, Kentucky Fried and Popeye's number 1 client |
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Two piece pings n rice allspice |
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N an RX-7 cuttin' through'a da night |
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I represent the look like the great Sam Cook |
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Put a star by every freak in my true black book |
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Clutch tight fist pumped way in the air, pagan |
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You dealin' with a microphone bear |
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Tear, pear, glare, where? Stare, check it, I don't care |
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I just can't quit, shit, the rap game fanatic |
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Tryna stay calm with a mad weed habit |
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Cussin' and fussin' at 100 degrees |
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I think like a blind thief with the vision of G's |
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Chewy used to do me, listen to Ice-T |
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Ya lookin' at a nigga who wish he was drug free |
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But nigga that's a dream in another life |
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So, until then my last word is re-light |
