: Refrain La routine m'abime La routine m'abime La routine m'abime Elle tue, elle kill (x2) J'viens saigner l'industrie Iron mon blase dans s'te
Nights I felt like dyin, but I ain't cryin. What didn't kill me, made me strong as iron... iron... iron... OH MY GOD! HOV! Now these baby ballers, toy
mines Thank you, thank you, thank you Please hold your applause For I just applied logic Keys keys open doors Now I'm balcony, Opera, Black Tux, Binocula Black
momma in all black with a matchin purse I know you wanna blow up, but a funeral hurts What's worse, you can hit the mall and ball 'til you fall Have
man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them bitch [Jay-Z] Cool out homie You betta keep her away from my balling
{killa, killa} Who know a dream? {killa, killa} They are the.. [Killa Norman Bates - O.D.B. sample] They the dream killaz {killa, killa} They the dreams killaz {killa, killa} - dream {killa
who cook coke to crack Chop it sell it to fiends to make a profit back Dealers gamblers and hustlers pimp ballers and players Thugs thieves and killers
not into flossing Put hits on certain lawmen Who pick who runs for office If they switch then the guns are brought in Who parted with professional ball
Now your momma in all black with a matchin purse I know you wanna blow up, but a funeral hurts What's worse, you can hit the mall and ball 'til you fall
Killer keeps it honest Cause reality is perception with a weak stomach Bubbling uneasy like the bowels of hell (Boo!) Enough to make a black ghost turn
and can't solve they problems Smuggle crack, juggle rap, or play ball in college But Uncle Sam, hustle man, take all your dollars Break y'all, sink them 8-balls
black joloppy I'm the shit The only one who ain't heard is Foxy Formalize a plan No man can stop me Ball all Stat quo Understand Ya copy? I
r-roger that, r-r-roger that. R-roger that, r-r-r-roger that. R-roger that, r-r-roger that... Roger. [Tyga:] Young black Rico's. Kill for da C notes.
know you here em Please who in your room would trade places with me If I ain't what ya trying to be than why you hustling see To be young black and rich
m bustin heads like the FEDS baby pops This is not the +Kindergarten Cop+ Put on your blindfold, I'ma release and stand tall I detonate bombs at the policeman's ball
to shoot you Street connects, Mob ties on East and West We gouge out your eye balls if you seen too much Hopin' out drops wit blings and stuff Wit ball
carve my name Nas - too real, Nas - true king It's however you feel, g'head, you swing Your arms too short to box with god I don't kill soloists only kill
his gun Bitches flappin they gums, do he be clappin and shootin guys Actor or a movie star, rapper revolutionized What is his race nation or creed? Is he arabic, black