(Instrumental)
ballin I fake dat money all in my sleep I can taste dat money, I go to jail fuck it by the case with da money, ya got cha game up you go waste dat money
don't matter I'm a count big stacks ridin Lac's - blowin killa by the ounce hennesy, yes I'm deep fuckin run up in yo house holdin it down for Pimp C
in a ditch Every morning dope fiends looking for a fix They sick, fuck it they'll use they dog fit Everywhere a nigga breaking the same ol' laws All ending up
said nothing bout cha whole fam Look at my shit, it's fucked up At least smell like a project cut You ain't had the decency to clean up You, ya ma, and
all over Man, look here Verse:1 My hood is kurupted with nothin but killers and soldiers Off top cut throaters, get crossed up, get fucked over It
for dimes and nickel sacks Nigga give me that and I give you some You watch my back I watch yours I do rap chores while niggaz be looking for the rapture
, you better grow some, faggot [Hook:] Fuck this Christmas Fuck this Christmas (Nigga fuck Santa Claus) Fuck this Christmas Ain't nothing for you (Ain't no gift for
down Murda murda homicide Real right niggas ride Gangstas, they never hide Thank God I'm still alive My pockets look like there's cracks on me My waist looks
Mya. Missy?s freaky and Brandy?s shy, uh Now take a look at how my lifestyle changed up. I?m on now, god damn it I done came up. Now you could find
son. (I know I kno...) How the fuck we gon know who hit em, and they don't know who hit him. The hood talkin man everybody know. (I know its fucked up
Doc say that nigga dead When your times up your times up this is real shit I'm a ball 'Till my number called Say a praire Hopin' god hear Look I don'
come back Like you need a new stack I'm puzzled now, how the fuck you blow that You got a nigga on the side, well you should have him full time Go fuck up
of shooken me Cus I get tired of lookin for you Spray yo mamma crib and let yo ass look for me [gun shots] [Outro: Tony Yayo] Me for myself i gotta
give guns away in the hood like its government cheese Spray on Suzukis [50 Cent:] Yeah yeah Funk Flex Keep playin' with 'em [Lloyd Banks:] Yeah Look Look Yeah Look Look Look
man's gotta do what a man's gotta do Since God made the path, then I'm tryin to walk through Well, swam to the store tryin to look for food Corner store
fuck game there ain't no rules Give it up smooth, put me in there cool Yeahhhh! 'Cause it's your delight to fuck with fate You're looking for a way to
