: Instrumental
Instrumental
dangerous grounds, with the K off in my hand, Ready for me to blast I'ma clean up man, On dangerous grounds, with the K off in my hand, Ready for me to
what I'm a do I'm a certified dude from my fitted to my shoes Makin' kissy faces at bitches like Pepe Le Pew Tryina get 'em from the bar to my fuckin
, yes I'm not your average vet, blastin a tek I'll ravage your set, beat you up like masochist sex I never met another rapper of my caliber yet But them beatin
hockey No urban radio, just country and pop beats I'm trying to shake these stereotypes So give me space please, let me air out my life I don't even eat
spinning round Take my hand as we go down and down and down Looking for water But I lost God in a New York minute Don't know about you but my heart's
Similar to great battles and war time tales Hit me with my man Diamond and when all else fails We can take it to the streets and not my sales My game
You know the one thing I notice about critics man... Is, critics never ask me how my day went well Imma tell 'em (Verse 1) Ah, yesterday my dog died
my face wrinkle Sike, I'm 24 Thursday; six more birthdays and I'm blowin my brains out when I'm thirty As long as my heart beats I'ma keep tryin to
I come through black sombrero What 2 in the holster my code names Daryl Ride off in the sunset Stark in the barrel My boots on my horse named White Boy
hustlers and handlers With military, heavyweight standers Cameras on the cannons, move amongst hoes and gamblers Empties on my project balconies My guns vow for me, my
to buck i bet it take to ? [Yes Sir] cheat now i ain't makin it fair eat now to eat now i ain't waitin to share you beat down if i don't make enought
Tooter Gut You Like Flipper Dipper Ya'll Better Treat Me Like The Skipper Head Trigga The Air Nigga Air Honkey And Air Critter I Come In And Kill Every
Jay-Z talking:] Sauce mothafuckin, jigga, jigga feel this... [Chorus] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If
Feelin my highs and my lows In my soul, and my goals Just to stop smoking and stop drinkin But I been thinkin I got my reasons Just to get (by), just
To Breest And Beatles Wit Needles Stop Feed U To Deesel Leave U Like We Do Feedle Beat U Leap Through And See U Lay In The Gutta Brother Make U Eat Wit
