could reach up and take the sky But you'd find a reason or alibi Well you're black and white in color Well you're over, you're under Hey, I question
we could reach up and take the sky But you'd find a reason or alibi Well you're black and white in color Well you're over, you're under Hey, I question
under the gun 'Cause they got me public enemy, number one One, one, one, one One, one, one One, one, one All you suckers, liars, court testifiers Wanna infiltrate and break
Whether they gag me, bound me, hollow point 'round me (I feel ya) Dump me off the side of a bridge and drown me (Uh huh) Spare my family, the details
go die, or learn to hope? Get back on your way at the end of the day Under the fire and the rain The whole big bloody
today Fully automatic, gunning through it Gunning thangs, red rummed when strumming pain Mo' murda, I heard 'em holla, holla, clock dollas Swallow me, baby, 'cause we balling hollow point
bank that he hold. Natural born mind control. False niggas' gang blown away. It makes you wonder why niggas be hatin'. They jealous, they fellas be lookin' to take you under
pocket Too my pistol out, unlocked it, pulled the hammer back and cocked it And left his shit all on the carpet, I seen a (Murder, murder) I pin-pointed
the man said? Bitch now un ask it I got to have it When hitin' licks I'm a savage, you hoes is plastic I got a semi automatic pointed at your ass Slowin
blue, cotton city shoe, cotton candy Coupe Hard knock, orphan Annie loop, off the stoop Play with me, see what the screamy do, my canary shoe High beams pointed
? What's in it? That's the point of the thing, not to know It's a bat, will it bend? It's a rat, will it break? Perhaps it's the head that I found in
t get along? What's the point in gettin' it on Girl you know that it's wrong when all we do Is sweep it under the rug What's the point when we touch if
Dogg would say Hoes in the world, trying to play it sweet Knowing damn well that they wanna freak Some do this for maybe a week And then it's cool to get up under
m lookin' for a fat boy and a lotta state of clown You better move your ass to this MAC-11 Pointed at your ass for the 1-8-7 Yeah motherfucker, gonna break
shit can ya feel it Carbon copy come steal it The gatt I conceal it Under my jacket Oh where oh where Do ya think I pack it Under my belt when the cards
shit Can ya feel it Carbon copy come steal it The gatt I conceal it Under my jacket Oh where oh where Do ya think I pack it Under my belt When the cards
thrive on emotions, men refuse to acknowledge So when we arguing' nobody win Words get in the way time and again Sticks and stones break your bones words break
