better on my side, it's better on my side It's better on my side, it's better on my side 'Cause I'm better than her (Rick Ross rap): You saw me on my
step over the line and get a taste of the sunshine It's better on my side It's better on my side, it's better on my side It's better on my side, 'cause
(Talking) We still get our shine on, ya heard me [Chorus x2] We on factory, We on factory We ain't got nothing to prove, We on factory We on factory, We on
a blood like Game, see I've been havin beef I got my own bullet proof vest most of my enemies dead i got about two left untill my last breath im sendin
my eyes on you [Chorus: Akon] I got my eyes on you! And I'm posted on the corner with that thing on my side Said I got my eyes on you! It's a message
we'd haul off a load Down a dirt strip where we'd dump trash off of Thigpen Road I'd sit up in the seat and stretch my feet out to the pedals Smiling
my surprise I could see a little light on the hill Well the fire was glowing and really I was knowing I was really hot on the track But in D.C. they
'd rather be with you I'd rather be with you, yeah Said I'd rather be with you, uhu I was doing here big all on my on Grippin good grain and ridin on
gonna be rough They never did like Mama's homemade dress Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough. And I was standin' on the side of the road Rain fallin' on my
chair [Some guy laughs] [Verse 1: Bizzy Bone] We had to get 'em up wid two thugs Runnin' side by side wid number one Murda mo drop my guage on 'em
double D ? muthafuckin ? my homie DEV spell it out for ? so ? can see smokin too much muthafuckin weed in this bitch finna fire up another spliff ? on the mixin board cutcha ass up just like ? and on
be funny I buy my bitch a new ass and watch her sit on my money Man all the bitches holla, they wanna drop my bridges than jaw my dick and swallow Leave
a hoe, Whut I don't give a fuck if ya hate, Whut Just don't let me catch you hangin out on my side of the gate, Whut Talk to the dead on the phone, Whut
a flight with no VISA First class with the seat back, I still see ya In my past, you on the other side of the glass Of my memory's museum, I'm just sayin
blast at Farahkhan to overthrow Babylon Fuck this world, that's why we carry on By the Email Fidel, tell him meet me on the D.L. No longer a free world
my lyrics are deadly [Verse Two] I lay in the cut like peroxide Lookin at ya cock-eyed, cause your music sounds lop-side (Oooh!) They sound tounge tied
walk on this side of the yard, (?) And respect me for takin it to em So expect me to lay it down and represent my neck of the woods Yeah, like that,
The Way We Grate The Wood Pimp Goin Hard On It, While I Signed On It Dope Outa Hood, But This Is All Grind Money Poppin Fans On It, Throwin Grands On
