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Yo, take a walk through the terror dome |
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Instead of duckin little niggas, gettin live when they hear the chrome |
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Where them dollars at? what, nigga holla back |
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Is what they screamin, ice gleamin on jumanji plaque |
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Here to rat-a-tat-tat, on a regular |
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Money exchangin, rearrangin on a cellular |
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We do it up in a benz or a hoop dog |
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Smokin black, listenin to snoop dogg |
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We them troops dog, that be runnin up, summin up ya money block |
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Smack you all up in your funny top, guns cock |
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In the drop top, headed to the chop shop |
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Gettin ten grand, cuz the handle on your lock pop |
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[chorus 2x] |
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Throw ya hands in the sky if you feelin this |
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You can roll a bag of la if you feelin it |
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You can bump it in ya ride, you can park up on the side |
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You can bump to the vibe, if you feelin this |
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[buckshot] |
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I'm high when i know i'm sweatin, plus i'm gettin |
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Ready to set like nino brown at the wedding |
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You a new jack, this ain't a city |
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What a pity, i fuck around, i have to give you fifty |
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And if i take 49, and you're left with one |
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See the one that jammed in ya ear, made ya deaf son |
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Take ya breath son, nah, here's the oxygen |
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Fuck it, bring the muthafuckin glocks again |
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Throw ya hands up, when i spit six to tear ya man up |
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Now you can't stand up, fucked your whole plan up |
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Every time the gun jam up, the back slam up |
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Upside ya head, give me my respects |
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[tone cappone] |
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Yo, there's nowhere to run, there's nowhere to hide |
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Don't no one survive, the toast on my side, we both gonna die |
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A nigga and his man tried to front, they both in disguise |
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See before jesus, the only man chosen was i |
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And you can a dream or a nightmare, and i'm right there |
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Standin over there, wit a bead and a mic there |
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Puff there, hype there, russell there, mike there |
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All them niggas watch me embarrass you, right there |
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From brook-nam to queens, all the way to yonkers and back |
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Anywhere you go, you see the knights only attack |
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Niggas flipped it on they back, enormin this tracks |
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We bombin these cats, like u.s. was bombin iraq |
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[chorus 2x] |
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[sweet mellodye] |
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A real hard head makes a real soft ass |
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I thought i told these muthafuckas they ain't in our class |
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Quick fast, i strip them from they stripes, snatch they thug patch |
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Fuck that, i make 'em run and get they wife and come back |
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You dumb black, bum raps is what y'all got |
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It'll take a forest fire, just to make ya hot |
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And i ain't got no time for them weak ass rhymes |
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And then, when you spittin it's three and four at a time |
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Come on now, i hate to be rude and shit |
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But it's only a chosen few that can do this shit |
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I thought you knew this shit, and ran through this shit |
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But you still sample shit, and gettin sued and shit |
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You know you makin me sick, like the flu and shit |
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And stage ya monkey ass, leave the zoo and shit |
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You see i rule wit shit, wit any bit i spit |
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That rap crack, you phat, ain't all that and shit |
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[chorus 2x] |
