Got the devil got me thinking 'bout them ill moves Every damn kid on the street, they got something to prove Push a bullet through my heart, why not? That's
watch your back 'Cause you might think, you're just dope while you're livin' In a sniper's scope, I'm not tryin' to scare you but there's a danger If
I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
see in one lifetime?, that's why Miles Davis coping is mic time, I keep that notebook on my ottoman, and wrote hooks about slaves that was slaughtered in the 1800's
link with rich cats who's pockets stay dirty Like Diamond Back, mocassins that raid ancient jungles Stinging sensation, injected with 7 bundles Raw element, U.S
I swore that I will never hustle no more but I will never say that no more I got my mind, right money right The pots hot as the rock expands It's the
you can say 'Cause just ol' Luke and Luke's waitin' on the Judgment Day "Well, now Luke, my friend, what about young Anna Lee?" He said, "Do me a favor, son
world No no no! Ohh! Money's good, work is okay Looks like everything is rollin' our way 'Til you gotta look the devil in the eye You know that bastard's
is the devil's only friend Oh, and as I watched him on the stage My hands were clenched in fists of rage No angel born in hell Could break that Satan's
Mother Mary come to me For I am a wicked child I've sinned and I am so confused And I am a wicked child I am a wicked child I am the Devil's son And
-roger that, r-roger that R-roger that, r-roger that R-roger Young black Rico's kill for the C-notes But me though, I'm Jack son bitch Tito She wanna
off Fanny And you can put the load right on me (And) (And) Go down, Miss Moses, there's nothin' you can say It's just old Luke, and Luke's waitin' on
of hash and make sure it's the bomb coz the devil's got the kind of stuff they smoked in vietnam you'll get a million smackaroo's in cash if you
and just took over the muthafucka Learned the devil's tricks an how to run this shit I had a fall out with satan, and called his son a bitch Repeating
is all us brothers boxed up in caskets With plastic bags in every bathroom getting blasted It's drastic, mama help me calm down cause your son's sick
The devils gonna getcha, better start actin' like you should All the cold beers and bright lights, stayin' out all nightThe good book it tells me boy your soul's
too S L R or the Aston Mar' Lamborghini or the Porsche with the crashin' bars Iced out Or wear no ice at all 100 G's on the dice game Life's a ball
that Givenchy and let?s get raunchy I have your face looking all Captain Cruncy the devil stay testing ?cause when you chase the pussy it?s a sin but