my people everywhere Say what Throw your hands in the air Ya don't stop To my people in new york Ya don't stop To my people down south Ya don't stop To my
my people everywhere Say what Throw your hands in the air Ya don’t stop To my people in new york Ya don’t stop To my people down south Ya don’t stop To my
tryna climb sites I ain't blind from the limelite, I had my mind and my rhymes right, and signed when the time's right People shouldn't be hateful, they
, will I ever trust Unless it's my people, unless it's my kin I don't love shit, but my people and my ends Put my ends in my safe, in a safe place I break
is a suspect, even if you don't bust I'ma bust back We down to ride and, all you little Bitches and niggas get off my nut sack Been 18 lonely years,
all my ten minutes up Gotta make my bed, gotta watch my butt Gotta clean my room, gotta iron my stuff Gotta wash my car, gotta shine my buck Gotta change
Chorus] [Verse 3: Fresh Kid Ice] Get on up, let me bust a rhyme Something that happened ahead this time I was coolin' out, doin' my work Then suddenly
He tried to battle me and found self-DESTRUCTION [Mr. Mixx] 2 Live Crew 2 Li - 2 Li - 2 Li - 2 Live Crew Bus - Bust a rhyme Bus - Bust a rhyme Bus - Bust a rhyme
man - grow on trees Criminal ties for centuries, a legend in my own rhymes So niggaz whisper when they mention Machiavelli was my tutor Donald Goines, my
whole damn style is bitten You heard my melody, read about my life in the papers All my run-ins with authorities, felonious capers Now you wanna live my
'm so real {So real}, oh... You make me {You make me feel} Whoa and I love you to love you, baby, I {So gone}, ooh [Monica (Busta Rhymes)] Aye Busta Rhymes
heart to sell weed but you scared of dope I wouldn't snitch on my peoples if the feds grabbed me Yo ass would hit more notes than Ron Isley I wouldn't rhyme
to back To my people in the world, where the fuck you at? Where my niggaz is at? Where my niggaz is at? Where the fuck my bitches at? Where my bitches
all my niggas, this for all my bitches Space Age 4 Eva, Eightball, my nigga Memphis Tenn. I'm from, you can call me a titan Hot rhymes I'm writin, burnin
sleep, who do I turn to? When I be low on my cash who am I down with when fifty niggas be talkin bout kickin my ass? Who is my friends who is my foes?
clearly my troubles All of my trifles the pressures that try to stifle If life was holding a rifle to my head, my last thoughts would be Simply to let my
, running And running, running And running, running And running, running And- In this context there's no disrespect So when I bust my rhyme you break
My faithful never fall For every main (?) Gaining fame, that?s the deal, entertaining y?all Never change or conform, we always rock ?n? roll I remember when we used to bust
