blow, speed, bleed, whatever yo' kind And if you need a motherfucker I ain't hard to find Some may call me Bootsy, but I call it timin That's while I
finger is itchy, it'll take a while to tame Detroit is hella Dirty but the Dozen can fix it Resist and a biscuit will excede the distance And bounce
m straaaiiiggghhhttt [B.G.] Okay now, now when I spit it, I spit it how I live it Every verse I ever gave ya, it was fact, nothin' fiction I'ma +Livin
it do, what it do, what it do, ay what it do What it do my nigga what it do, ay what it do Ay what it do, what it do, what it do, ay what it do What it
got hepatitis c from horse, but no confusion, jeah! it wasn't from the sex it was a blood transfusion! what?! motherfucker got horse blood! what y'all got? i write freaky fan fiction
from a horse, but no confusion, It wasn't from the sex, it was the blood transfusion! (Jorma) What?! Motherfucker got horse blood! What y'all got? (Andy) I write freaky fan-fiction
The Fox [Verse 3: Jason Fox] I Got Another One For Making These Hits It's Been Real Cuz Im Still Doing It I Got A Deal While Other Niggaz Loosing It
or any other good book that you read Why are 75% of our youth readin' magazines? 'Cause they used to fantasy and that's what they do to dream Call it fiction
toothpicks Beat 'em with two whips, with pieces of broken glass glued to it Your whole crew get spayed and neutered As soon as I aim and shoot it, you
rollin wit us, like co-defendents, no phony business So know the difference - from supreme solo it's the styles ancient as Moses scriptures It's Latin
shawty I'm straight Okay now, now when I spit it, I spit it how I live it Every verse I ever gave ya, it was fact, nothin' fiction I'ma Livin' Legend
fiction A E I OH OO, must be an addiction A E I OH OO, you say I see myself in you But you ain't hittin' nothin' with your woe You called me the other
high school, I had oily, stringy hair and lots of pimples. I wore really wussy clothes. Most of the other kids called me a faggot. Even some of the other wusses called
Somebody call the cops, let 'em know the funk bandit's back With more bounce to the ounce, it's the brat tat tat tat The funk-keeper Competition's sweet
country -You can be the next John D. Rockerfeller -Nobody noticed us, nobody gave a shit -But the bigger we get, the more were takin from other people
becomes the trailer when it's gone The end becomes the trailer when What's set down in fiction feeds back again, The end becomes the trailer when it
And desire it and other things and pleasures Save me from what I can't see There's cold thoughts washing over me I've no point can't call this living
