in pain Turn it off (Somebody's asking me) Turn it off (Somebody hears) Turn it off (Somebody's asking me) Turn it off (Somebody hears) Turn it off
bled People betrayed in a secret rage Turn it off, somebody's asking me Turn it off, somebody hears Turn it off, somebody's asking me Turn it off, somebody
have bled People betrayed in a secret rage Turn it off, somebody's asking me Turn it off, somebody hears Turn it off, somebody's asking me Turn it off
I'm rejuvenated bitch, I feel as good as I look That's awesome Show me who's talkin' and I'll off 'em From Austin to Boston, make 'em floss in coffins
Them other cats ain't going in That shit is soft porn I overcame obstacles like Parkour And if I got off course it's only cause my banking is off shore
mixture of Arabic, plug 'em in Plug 'em in Plug 'em in, plug 'em in Come to spread it The world exclusive Check it From the underground producers Turn
your wigwam Inside it says that the product is Asian Once it was only in movies Now it's a product invasion Mass production in Saigon While auto workers laid off
you are Seh mi shoot up yuh ends innah my owna car How yuh fi gimme hype when yuh beg mi par And mi write five songs gi yuh turn yuh innah star Talk
tear it up We came to smash this club Came to tear it up We came to smash this club Put your fucking drinks up Turn it back, turn another around (x
turn it out all the fellas raise your hands, let me hear you shout all the girlies in the place, let me hear you scream it's an all-4-one party, it
and I deserve it, all my life I worked hard for them other cats aint going in that sh-t is soft porn I overcame obstacles like Parkour and if I got off
You'll be gagging from the motherfucking gunsmoke Walk the streets and I play for keeps And while I entertain, suckers remain six feet deep It was good while it
turn a nigga into stone Send out a blast like an e-mail to shoot ya Female Medusa (It Wasn't Me) like Shaggy Denaun (da nine) did it Like a fag was snitchin
s do it Batter pocket syndrome, the money we gon' abuse it Still gettin out-of-town paper so don't confuse it Tell the hip-hop cops nah, it's only music
gettin' money, man, I'll show you how to turn profit In the hood, they call me 'Joey, The Profit' First you cop it, then you cook it, then you chop it
a wrestler, but I'll put your bitch the Boston crab I talk money cause it costs to brag Round here bitches walk round here at the horse's head (?) Rap it
Rush Limbaugh's rants I'm the reason that the Boston Red Sox even had a chance And if I want to eat your soul, I'll just throw it on a griddle. I don
, it bucks up to it's full height from a boggy swamp on a foggy night. it creeps into your house. it's life! it's life! I turn around, it's fear. I turn
