(feat. Kurupt) Good evening bitches I am on my business (yeah!) Yeah, I am on my business Good evening bitches I am on my business (yeah!) Yeah, I am
just wouldn?t do this to me Not you, I?m sorry I must have you confused Cause that can?t be love You took advantage of a good thing And that ain?t a good
the one, like the piece that's on Nelly's chain You can't reach me, I'm out of your celly range Bitch I'll even put canary's up in your belly chain And
make you hurt yourself When you don't have dick you fingerfuck yourself That dick is an awful thing But you bulldagger bitches are fuckin' up the game Rubbin' belly to belly
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel Good God Almighty THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL" No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't
'bout you owe 'em I made not a dollar, you didn't sell nada Niggaz ain't even grateful that we let y'all ride You better be thankful we even let y'all
It was the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse The stockings were hung by the chimney with
no good, so all of my fam could eat See in the hood we hungry - hey nigga we playin for keeps My soldiers on the block get on it It be good if you flaunt
(Henry Livingston, 1808) 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were
everybody come on get up on the floor Right now and grab someone (one) *1st verse* Now first of all I'm the boss I just wanna get that across Man even
just baked cookies Mr. Officer, looky, take a whiff of these Here, I make Jesus juice, take a sip of this Nobody is safe from me, no not even me I don't even
Nothing I can do about it Maybe I won't even try Your will is determined to kill any Reason of mine I see you coming With that look in your eye You act
T'was the night before Christmas,when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, --not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney
Uh Shits all good The deal got signed and my splits all good And these haters pretending that it's all good Say that shit in person man I wish ya'll would
Lyrics by Bernie Taupin He wasn't famous but I sure did love him I've got his picture in a little frame He lost his life to a big disease before it even
Although I don't really know how to handle you I will have nobody kicking no sand in your face Not even a trace of bland in you Teenage and it's a trouble
looky and I think I see your fucking heart Uh huh so I'm stabbing like it ain't nothing Wicked clown cut his way out your belly button I'm like a vulture
