The crisp sheet bedding pulled down to the floor, my raised, tired brows have witnessed its lore and I won't have much to say, if I don't return. Easy
(hata hata) or ride in your car (your car your car) Don't let that murda murda get cha man don't let that murda murda get cha baby dont let that murda
Walk, Verse 1 ( B-real) Well, it's the Alley Cat puffin' on a hootie rat, Some think I'm a criminal, But, yo I ain't all of that, Hit'cha with the baseball
Just know my niggas squeeze on side Only problem is we doin this head knock I told Ross We gon show em how the Gutta do All black skis Black ones And
your brain, Mr Rich And about that bitch, don't trust em [Chorus] (Ice Cube comin at'cha with a crazy bitch) Don't trust no (Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!) (Ice Cube comin at'cha
To the bar ba-baby We're gonna sit back and watch the world burn Watch this poor little city burn down Fight! Fight! Fight them all! Fight the ones
killa whales Damn bitches wanna fuck with my man on the other hand things ain't always what you plan It's the ones up in ya Prom picture So long with'cha
1: Pras Yo, yo, yo, yo, once again she's back again Wonderin' when she gonna find life again Makin' runs, stackin' ones, workin'-class citizen, Chosen
later, even for you playa haters Always for the innovators, sometimes for you desecrators Even live the Players life Havin' drinks and much in sight Have a game to campaign? What'cha
Yeah, you scared ain't you? Haha Relax.. it's just music (It's Royce 5'9!!) D-Elite, Jah 5'9, Royce 5'9 Cha Cha, Cut Throat, Billy Nix My nigga Tre' Little
no more X-loc is goin cleptomaniac, stealin' yo' life cayse I gives a fuck about ya That's why I'm using that 44 to blow them brains up out cha Dumb shit
to the God, peace dog. Pull out a little liquor, Shame on a nigga, I heard the reapa' done came to get'cha. So I done copped this fifth a, vodka, and
I call lil' bust it baby I was speedin' in the fast lane Pedal to the floor mayne Tryna get back to her love Best believe she got that good thang She my little
You know you the bomb, don't cha Ooh, ooh ooh, baby you, yeah, yeah, yeah My my my my my my my my my My baby, ooh, baby You musta just fell from the
rums And money in large sums and navigators and guns Baby mamas wit sons, ain't afraid to let you have it If you trip with their loved ones you tripled
with cha money Whatcha do? Give 'em the finga This one is for my hustlaz, right Ladies don't tustle with bustaz, not tonight If you a dough gettin' swinga Niggaz act funny with cha
walk Stoned is the way of the walk Well, it's the Alley Cat puffin' on a hootie rat Some think I'm a criminal but, yo I ain't all of that Hit'cha with