away I'll be everything I want, everything I wanted to be I'm outta my mind and outta your sight [x7] I'm outta my mind So I just drive It doesn't matter
people hate it, but I made it, so I'm never concerned About what they be talkin' about, I've lived and I've learned With my dream and my drive, I determined
savage batch hidden The can of whoop ass with the Shady Aftermath lid You pop off the top it?s like opening vats of acid Beat the Octamom to death with
pick up my degree. And the locusts sang off in the distance, Yeah, the locusts sang such a sweet melody. Oh, the locusts sang off in the distance, Yeah
with the cars she kept. Oh and such is life she often said, with one day leading to the next, you get a little closer to your death which was fine with
for my people and my niggas up North The ruler shit dynasty but Flipmode finally come fourth Exports and imports hittin you with flavors of all sorts My squad comin through, chop off
Yo, it's 3:25 in the morning My baby mom still yawning Kiss my little daughter on the forehead 'Nuf said, beeper goes off Five hundred, it's Busta Bust
to crack your enamel Changin your channel, you played like a fuckin piano Ridin slow through Cali like I'm ridin a camel Millionaire motherfuckers with their brains in their
the west I'm Mozart, I compose dark shit with no heart [Yelawolf:] I got no Jim Beam in the liver Getting head like clean clippers, with haters on my
ticking, ticking Within an hour the news had reached the media machine A male caucasian with a gun had gone berserk in Queens The area had been sealed off
me with a toilet brush? Phyllis: Beat you with a toilet brush? Aynsley: Shhh . . . someone might hear . . . yes, beat me with a toilet brush. Phyllis
lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne? He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with
ve been away to long, I can't do nothin' bout that The hood askin' me Why I do Bleek a tragedy? Than drive over Brooklyn Bridge with Cassidy I rode down
worlds Rapping and drug dealing Run and tell the chief I came to burn down the village The head honcho, staring out the third story window Of my Beverly Hills condo With