Big thinking bastards with stupid ideals try to make profit out of me rockstar glamour stupid punk you're just nothing but a sellout prick i'm sick
bastards allergic to cash this year Makaveli for the Mob, M-O-B Killin bustaz is my motherf**kin job, him or me Lyrically fatally driven, ni**az reported missin My competition dead
mon Still the son of a gun having big fun Fill your lead with an infared I put the best to bed, they call him dead fucking fred Shed my skin like
smack Hugh Hefners Now, I'm about to put a (Slug) in Show business and if everything goes right, I'm leaving no witness I hold this inside the chest, so big
can phase me but you can't change the life that God gave me, To all the ones who betrayed me, you can't evade me And to all the ones who stayed with me
I think of what would happen if I went off for a beer with the guy instead of coming straight home, it makes me sick even think about it... [Announcer
reaches out We just chuckle Now where the fuck of how we is as individuals We raise wrong Politics and poverty got us head strong You dead wrong If you think
, have this? Now, I'm about to put Slug in show business, and if everything goes right I'm leaving no witness I hold this inside the chest so big it
will soon show, a thought can last for years Outshinin them fakes smile plastic tears like last year, ni**az stuck in the past, and it's clear Just some busta a*s bastards
