beats like heart beats Do they want to stay connected To the solemn man Along the line We come to find You shot yourself Along the line We come to find
The kind of song that ignites the airwaves. The kind of song that makes people glad to be where they are with who ever they're there with. This is war. Every line
follower She gon' be a squirter and a swallower Late night gobbler Big maniac, she a brainiac, just like she go to Princeton In a Cadillac, fuck a battle
And you gon' bust two times, when I smack it up Then beat it up Then spank it up Til the [{*motherfuckin'*}] DJ crank it up I strip the game butt-naked, girl, line by line
known as Decatur I got my own lane but I can't see the road My rear view mirror's full of haters Wouldn't wanna be ya It's me they cannot battle Yes
truth, but you know you could do so much better, and you sat on your fences, you've screamed no retreat... So now what will your legacy be? (We...) Battle lines
from, there's syrup in the cup Grill in the mouth, big wheels on the bus Where niggaz put it down, and these hoes will fuck You cross that thin line,
me rule and regulation Me get the sawed off buckshot from the killing Who plex me or plex cause me ready and me willing Me ready for the battle, drink
to work But this is all your giving Half of what your worth Pigeon hold in battles Overtones of snow in her clutch Falling through lines One more breath
gon' stay on We serve em, like Pac told us to, catch em wet with the tec Hit em in the neck and watch him die like he supposed to Napoleon the front line
living her apology Thought they had us beat when they took our kids But the battle ain't over till the black man sings Words of Wisdom But the battle
upstream. The ones to never ever let you try. Blackout, clear hearts won't counteract; see through the dirt in your eyes. You must stand on battle lines
style boy you know what I'm sayin? [50 Cent] R.I.P B.I.G, R.I.P P-A-C, R.I.P niggas that wanna OD Aiyyo the bottom line is I'ma crook with a deal If
I don't hear your mans laughing it up no more Running his mouth, or backing it up no more Leaving battle fields scattering shields Shatter bodies in tattered
fields I'm hear to prove my era's real No better deal you cross the line you feel embedded steel I grip the microphone and wield like a battle axe I got
your rap regiments The body of your composition is what Shamus clutches Lyrics are the legs and the swares are your crutches When you battle me it'll