down the windows Don't shift in your seat I don't care if the wind blows I don't care about the heat All those John Woo showdowns Don't prepare you for
spliff that wouldn't burn right Make you wanna holla 'bout it It ain't no doubt about it Every now and then you gotta stand up and shout about it And
, have you gay niggaz lay down for me And get a order for killers to spray rounds for me Competition, you ain't considered; you rapping, you bore me You
the nine if it's drama let these niggaz tryin' to bring to my mind I seem to remind that Thomas Crown is spoke and if you don't love it you can shove
without you, I'm lost without you Though all my kingdoms turn to sand and fall into the sea I'm mad about you, I'm mad about you And from the dark
They kick garbage, lust for chicks and quick dollars I know the pain the game bring, I did the same thing Spaced out in the staircase, performing a sting
pan Hot like wasabe when I bust rhymes Big like LeAnn Rimes because I'm all about value Bert Kaempfert's got the mad hits You try to match wits You
get home faster Then HBK was the only station that would fuck with rap You was on the shore by yourself castin' stay up your act What you could make of it, you
: All that I want is to show you love All I got to do is find the time So when can I see you? (I see you love) I know what you want I know what you babe
club before you know you on da floor I be strapped like jab in the back Beat dem killers thats gone attack Hoe you know its gone be on when you talking about
about 3 inches At first it kind pinches Then it burns like You wouldn't believe When I get in you Any venue Mad Childs flaming You're on the menu Let
man There's a courage about him, doesn't look like a killer Comes across so calm Acts like he has a dream full of passion You don't trust me, huh? Well
tell you something, I ain't gon' front, yo I love you and all that, son (then say that!) You my first cousin, (then say that, Ghost, say that) You my
riddle, profitable, visible, iritibal Little brittle pitiful fist still too little you tickle, you typical Yeah, I talk shit, I'm cocky with it It's hard for you
no names If you not one of the same, I suggest you Stay in your lane, stay in your lane Stay off my stage, stay in your lane If you ain't from the grain
than spliff that wouldn't burn right Make you wanna holla 'bout it It ain't no doubt about it Every now and then you gotta stand up and shout about it
you know the irony of life is that you have like this big dream to get where you wanna be but once you get there you start to dream about where you came