it Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted I had enough I put a hit upon them bastards Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket
points, no commas we bring drama to all you herds Now go check the scenerio Little Ceas' I'll bring my enemies to they knees Coppin' pleas a Degenario Big
bottle of momma's God Damn Hot Chili. Smooth tender chunks with chili beans filled with momma's hot bastard bacon bits, and drizzled with just the right
we come [Tha Realest] Who'd ever figure that they'd finally get me? It's a cold ass world they way them bastards hit me Well I will trip and did my
.. Bastards blunts, buddhas bullets black gats is the lingo! Fuck a jolly jingle, old bitches break for Bingo Christmas time I crack yak and Kris with Kringle Gettin funk
say I'ma bastard of a swift bitch negro, funkin it with the style in your ear bro To make you _Fear_ me like _Cape_ without Robert DeNiro You big pussy
the sun! It's comin' back around! Of the sun People Of The Sun (Original, as on Bombs & Bullets) Bastard son is in, swimin' in a sea of funk Clear the
die you die if i decide/ then we ride If it's on you rock a bye bye/ thuggstas straight up warned you will, obey mine Oh we will ride yes we ride
chump, you don't want no static Real niggaz, louder, real niggaz, louder, louder Real niggaz, yo, real niggaz Yo, yo, yo, it's Funk Doc, I thought you
say I'ma bastard of a swift bitch Negro, funkin' it with the style in your ear, bro To make you 'Fear Me Like Cape' without Robert DeNiro You big pussy
, the little bastard And mastered the real way you slap the bitches niggaz backwards Uh-oh, aiyyo, whenever Busta Rhymes say so When we move yes sometimes we lay low aiyyo Big
shows You can feel yo Kickin' in you do', like a steel toe for real do' Y'all gon' learn I spit germs When you come showin' on Big Worm You gets burned
might not like my rap, but I'm tellin' you bitch it's true So much death in the Oakland streets Am I gonna live till next week? Will I get shot by a
to wreck 'nuff shop So do like Michael Jackson and "Remember the Time" Put on your dancin' shoes or somethin' 'cause ya sho' can't rhyme Big up, big
But I would've loved to hear A Big Pun and B.I.G. collabo That shit would've been incredible Aye yaknahmsayin', it was just happen We have our day, you
s up?", "How ya' doin' today? "Just great, Shaggs", well that's great Now let's give a hand, to Mike E. Clark An' that Gangsta Funk Band We'll be right
leave to live the linguistic Full metal jacket of the macular ballistic Shooting off at the mouth without chap or blistics I got hairs on my funk and
my homies, I thought you knew? He said "Los don't sweat it, let this shit alone," but with these punk motherfuckers I must pick a bone Now will it
