bust a cap then aim it up If you religious praise it up If you gotta get high then blaze it up For the ones who never gave it up Take a champagne glass
't nuttin but a gangsta party motherfuckin time, hahahahah Y'all niggaz about to feel this Ain't nuttin but a gangsta party Break out the champagne glasses
where kings bury there loved ones, Sick, kids guard their crop with a slug gun, From rips, move like Schapelle on a drug run, So quick, there's kids
get it twice. Makin' this money for me and my wife. Niggas just wanna shut me down! What about the kids? (The kids.) The kids is straight. Watch out
distractions At last, I can relax, looking past all of the action A fraction or a fragment of me actually is present The rest of me is heavenly, the seventh house
bitch The purple furs and the gold trim glasses I only bust the fat asses And I don't be givin a fuck who da hell can rap better than me Cause I'
At last, I can relax, looking past all of the action A fraction or a fragment of me actually is present The rest of me is heavenly, the seventh house
You done just put to of Americas most wanted In the same mothafuckin' place at the same mothafuckin' time Y'all niggaz 'bout to feel this, break out the champagne glasses
Yo, my crew is in the house Terra, Herb Mcgruff, Buddah bless Big twan, Killa Kam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie And I'ma set it like this Aiyo, folks who
, my tongue's the finger that pull it Check the method, soundtrack voodoo uh and bamboo like strapped Come better you, oh sorry verbal dyslexic You better
the time? You're still having trouble in defining your own kind. Need I remind you, we all knew you before, you threw the rocks at the stage from your glass house
circus in your bed A calculated showdown It's very graphic bloodshed Better put your house in order There's a fireball in the sky Kiss the wife and kids
Chi Town! ) My style is very Tennessee Mixed with some Terry Kennedy People barley remember me from back in the day I done got some contacts and threw the glasses
with beef I gotta slug to sleep Peep, I'm not no nigga Figga' he can come up By getting a job so I mob not givin' a fuck I'm the drama mama warned all they kids
the depression You lied in your confession You knew me better than this You lie by my side with your hand on a weapon Waiting for a confession You knew me better
serious, man? They better fuckin' reco'nize what time it is, Before we clean their clocks. R-O-C? - yep. I spit sick rhymes, stars Better den yours,
end of times. Now I wonder if I'll live to see marriage. Wonder if I'll live long enough to have kids. Wonder if I'll live to see my kids have kids if
