I step approach a motherfuckin wack nigga.. that tryin to spit his darts and can't spit 'em Check it out though.. aiyyo.. Scientific, my hand kissed
ya face on the shirt Black tee, black beat, trappin on the front street Got a black pistol grip pump on the seat Black tee, O.G., nigga don't approach
: [feat. 50 Cent] Recently I approach, the microphone, cause I ain't no joke Recently I approach, the microphone, because I ain't no joke Recently,
than a spook But you the one that voted for Duke, motherfucker White man, is somethin I tried to study But I got my hands bloody, yeah They said I could
: Let's move on. Hastily! Approach if you dare. When will you break away from your own rule. Push and shove the hardest that you can. I am not the nightmare
open doors Now I'm balcony, Opera, Black Tux, Binocula Black luxe, Stop it I shouldn't be so popular Name keep poppin' up Face keep poppin' up On the
on the low like Dean Martin We came in this game, not beggin niggaz pardon Demandin y'all respect, hand over a check And while y'all at it, hand over
bring the labels in/ Put the deals on tables and/ Pick the best, sign the name/ Skip the rest, climb the stage/ Approach the mic, the time has came/ [Chorus] Now put your hands
Till the top fizzle, rhymes are not pistols These rhymes are drop missiles I leave mammoth murders once my canvas surface Hands on the mic is like hands on
woven shorty styles not jokin' Not a buffalo Bill so u know there aint no chokin' Wicked on a stage like a bengal in a cage Don't try ta approach as I
't by broads, it's about this motherfucker label right here That's the answer and that's that The watch is on my left hand, straining on my wrist I'm being easy on
, it's the locust O. Trice is holdin the soldiers, the prognosis Probably why I rose from zero to hope Cause I was wide eyed and open nosed on my approach
[gunshots] [Proof] Know much about my a land ski Don't tustle with my hand speed Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed We ferocious, toast no holsters Approach
came. But he ain't got no more fame then me, that's WAOOOOWWW! Blame it on the white boy, nigga that's your style! Spoke on a nigga and spoke that bullshit
are full and one crosses my path, too I just might reward myself with a beer or two This inn the place of many romantic tales On the loft women offer
it's digital criminals turned rapper times is changing niggaz get flashier houses more plusher Bitches giving ass up at ages more younger Hands on the clock keep turning, hands on
wise and shawn Truthfully we got our own staff The hands on experience, advance that executive paper Stay in the streets we set for greater things Whatever in the bank, bank on
it Cause I ain't goin out like a sucker no way So I sit around the way for you to make my day We can go for the hands, better yet for the words Cause