there weed here Get off my block Yo, who these unfamiliar corn balls Get off my block It's one of these niggas off my street corner Get off my block
weed here Get off my block Yo how these unfamiliar corn balls Get off my block It's one of these niggas off my street corner Get off my block {Lord
there weed here Get off my block Yo how these unfamiliar corn balls Get off my block It's one of these niggas off my street corner Get off my block {
Get off my block Yo how these unfamiliar corn balls Get off my block It's one of these niggas off my street corner Get off my block [Lord Have Mercy
doin' my thing Still smokin' crucial bang Just came off my P-O ("Yo!") I'm in my basement writin' 'nough flow That's right, my fuckin' brain's open Got
I stay my ass sober I be loaded, thinkin' of condos Maybe I could get a condo if I keep my nose closed [B.G.] That heroin hit my block; opened it like
Busted heads clips thrown my way Bustin' heads to let you know I don' t play I'm out to have things I spit rhymes to get down Hands clap when I get
heart like a Hoover Crip, but bust slugs Like an Inglewood Blood I mingle with thugs My single 'gon buzz Ya boy export get rid of the drugs I still bag my
knockin busters on they backs in my cell, thinkin, "Hell, I know one day I'll be back" As soon as I touch down I told my girl I'll be there, so prepare, to get
dopest fuckin rhyme I wrote Takin off my coat, clearing my throat Chorus: Method Man I got my mind made up, come on... [come on] get in get in too
-fuck jugglin I know it lasts longer, gets my pockets thicker But I'd rather use my gun cause I get the money quicker, so bust it Look as I cut the records
jack Sit back and get fat off the fat cat while he thinks that he's getting over I bust a move as smooth as casanova And count another quick meal I'm getting paid for my
friends much fuck dodging the D's I had a M-1 cock quick block on knees Who the youngest thug that ever lived blocks I quoting I'm a legend and these
get smashed up You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up Git it You gotta get your straps up Git it You gotta get your stash up Git it You gotta get
off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt* Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch Hoist this
hesitant So keep all that wackness out my ear, (phew phew) that's the sound of your career in my hood [Busta Rhymes:] I hope you niggas got your ringside
