eight months, son Checked my pockets, but I knew I had none They took away my license They said I can't drive Said that I should thank them I'm "lucky
Traduction: DRI. Encore une fois Busted.
Walked through the desert with Israel Traveled onto Mecca with Ishmael I'm crucified, resurrected - now ask how I feel A - D that I AM, that I AM From
to Lafayette Maybe off in Alexandria, but I ain't finished yet I gotta make a hoe I-10, I sin Then I, do it again I get my ends, I'm in my motherfucking
and I make 'em dance Everytime I grab the mic, and take the stand How many mics I gotta break, till I make some grands They say I'm ready, cause I wreck
my mission my competition no longer beefin I murdered all them bustas now I'm the last motherfucker breathin [Chorus] [Young Noble] Make sure I hold
South Central {*LOUD SCREAM*} Whoa, not these niggaz again These grown-ass ignorant men with hair-triggers again (Hehe) You and what army could harm me? D-R
! Don't you never say my little girl's name in a song again! Fuckin' punk pussy little bitch! I'll fuck you up boy! Never! Never in your muthafuckin life! I
outcast, we outlast Used to bust a tommy gun, now I blast off with a check Might as well, I done earned the respect [Chorus] [Pos:] Here to jumpstart the art again
from fuckin' with' the D-R-E. I got my eyes on the shit unfolding. And there ain't gonna be no trippin' Cause they know the type of shit that I be holding
bit Flooded wit the double R, real street shit Da blond hair bandit, you got gunz, hand it Turn my face when I bust a cannon Cuz I don't wear sunblock
i shot a gay preacher I dident do my homework so i shot my teacher I dropped out the next day fuck a g.e.d Then i went and clowned the industry with
my enemy enemies, enemy, when will I see? enemies, enemy R.I.P. [Verse Two:] Where you gonna run when God wanna do ya? J. Edgar Hoover, I wish I woulda
