I ain't trynna rest till the enemy six feet It's game time, and I'm ready to play Gimme my remote and my remote is my K I spray with it, I'm from uptown
lights on up early in the mornin' , All that muthafuckin' creepin' Pissin' on the set when a nigga Dee, sleepin' Pussy ass You know you can't survive, You was creepin' through
: [B.G.] I be thug'n and it ain't no secret I run game so when it's ran on me I can peep it My mind frame set on stacking six figures plus I let 'em
ring In my younger day I was facin' penitentiary (fa sho) I was packin' 22s back in elementary (i saved ya) I done been through it all A muthafuckin' juvenile I can go through
checking that We gon split a wig, if we gotta split a wig We gon dig six feet, if we gotta dig [Hook - 2x] [B.G.] Nigga I come through, my attitude
This is what'cha earn, chopper bullets burn S.K. trigga clicker, the blunt-smoker lighter flipper Paper chaser for six figures bout my issue I'm get to
-2-6 Droppin' dope hits, takin' a nigga bitch While you're on that flight, I'm bustin' nuts in your wife All assault rifles, the weapons that's on my team S.K's, A.K
it Takin off like Delta cause Manny Fresh can't be faded I'm a young nigga.. hard nigga.. street nigga Tryna get on my feet I creep you sleep six feet
Gangsta, spark in the day Come out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin' away I'm in to grow, legend with rights, I don't been enticed To greab the K
how it go nigga [Verse 1] Nigga I cause grief and trouble, funerals trying to come up on six numerals riding high in fly with a game with no rules got a K
Boy, 16, playin wit G's This rap game is the life, nigga ya wouldn't believe What I go through and what I see, it's amazin On the slick, thirty six ounces
coke drought, you assed out When you hear my name, nigga, you hear my street, nigga When you hear my street, nigga, you think six feet deep You think six
stop From a single drop, this is what they got Not to disrespect my peoples but my poppa was a loser Only plan he had for momma was to f**k her and abuse
dollar snot box on cee-lo, f**k eighth I need a kilo, got a plot, move my block down state Got the drop on the spot, movin pounds of weight f**k my fate
: (T. Ruffin, D. Morehead, K. Jackson, J. Thomas) Verse 1: I gotta few questions to ask you If I had a mil and a six would I be able to bag you If I
me lose you, I'm not tryna confuse you When I let loose wit this uzi and just shoot through your Isuzu You get the messege? Am I gettin through to you
nothing on my mind Laid back and I'm just thinkin' of old times Pop in our Isley Brothers tape when I'm waxin' Peepin' through my side-view checkin' out
scene! Over men and horses, hoops and garters lastly through a hogshead of real fire! In this way Mr. K. will challenge the world! The celebrated Mr. K
