imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat
buck and rip shit up I had enough and I don't give a fuck Niggas!, isn't just the blacks also a gang of mutha-fuckas dressed in blue slacks They say niggas hang in packs
way you know they win or lose You know money talks Your eyes they ain't so blue You love to watch the green-backs walk You got a five-buck side-pack
my only friend Remember when we used to park On Butler Street out in the dark Remember when we lost the keys And you lost more than that in my backseat
: Is this a cocaine summer? Or are you round about losing your belligerence? It is the sultan tumbler who double backs and gladly slaps the minister
Verse 3] Ay yo, we toast to that, it's the cat that broke backs To a soul slap, a smoke a track, how dope is that Poet for rap, wrote backs that most
drugs, juggling jobs, guzzling jugs So here's a toast to federal checks Hetero sex, unaffordable medical debts, huh We travel in packs and ravel in facts
her social security. I'm livin' just like a pack rat, So when I see someone with some food, I say gimme that! I'm livin' just like a pack rat, sleepin
business Piling out that cash Long line of credit cause I like my thug to last See they like it when I talk back Dough stack, cut backs, we don't want
I get involved with these federal agents They knew my background, knew about what happened down in Sac Town They knew about the wrap down south, they laid they backs
I'm mad to want you People say I'm mad to need you People say I'm mad to love you babe The clouds lie on their backs And rain on everyone But you
fuckin LP G Style, the gangsta talk Never near soft Hard as a knockout bout It's no sellout I keep crime in my rhyme Cause it's my thing Packed with guns
self if judgement was passed, yo, you be in hell (right up the ass-hole) the haten will get ya if ya let it pack your speedo's I hear its hot where you
if I come off soft Then chew on this! Are you scared? Devil without a cause And Im back with the beaver hats And Ben Davis slacks 30 packs of Strohs 30 pack
s they like to call me daddy Cool, when I'm stylin', just rollin' on my island Now just in case I pack heat, keep a case of brew in my backseat Got a
ain't that some shit. You hear stories the molest me and test them grits. Don't you know what they call me cause I ain't tall. I gotta pack something
I don't wanna feel like I have to pretend (It's all I need) Is real people, and real music and real people Sorry this ain't back pack, Sorry this ain
