If she come up for air I cut her off like Jesse Jackson with a hand on Barack's balls Awe Nigga it's me Jumper movie in the flesh straight from It-aly Five
what it is [Hook 2x] I shoot your arm, leg, leg, arm, head The heater burner bruisa is on my hip this year I shoot your arm, leg, leg, arm, head I wish
nothin but trouble God When I kick in the door with D-Block, Bravehearts and the Double R Don't make me let the machine off This is methadone music that
on me makaveli grand thefts, or KTF's you ain't under arrest you'll be in it when we caught U in the five or tech's (Machine Gunshots)Queen's hottest
went off Little soldiers, you're out of position Guns go off, Shams is a greatest fan A rhyming gallop reporter, columns are lost White five, black five
roams like mobile phones (right) rag top 'Vettes Yukons & hundred chromes Silly bitches lie in wait until the day I come home while the phone machine
Bite it, stomp on a beat Posess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas Wu status, now, wisdom to the masses [RZA] Cock back my tongue like a hammer, my head
and dogs The sergeant major of the neighborhood is weighing up the cost The senior transit lane While we're standing in the rain Worried if our heads
hurt, heartache and hard times, it's hard to explain I could feel the anger starting to happen again I'd bust your head and break your brain for five
(La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la) Yo, what's the deal, nigga? Ain't nuthin' pa, we just here and all that Tryna get our head rights, get this money
party out Ah ah, I smoke Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Saturdayh Two lay ya blunt, players with cream If I die my spirit will jump inside machines
be shook Broke bitch You can't fuck with me, you can't afford me Broke bitch You can't even afford a happy meal from McDonald's Broke bitch Five dollars
gone Now look who's comin' yeah look who's back Quick drop the bombshell straight to the track The 21st century killing machine I'm on the inside of a five-headed
, Mexico Thinking of the big score the night before met the connect Who was impressively dressed in high fabrics With troops like Babe Ruth, up on the Mezzanine Brandishing sub-machine
I'm venting let's shove a vending machine Up his rear end when he's bending over pretending that he Didn't say anything that would be offending to me Stick his head