room inside a box There is no room inside There is no room inside a box There is no room inside There is no room inside a box There is no room inside
Traduction: Roi X. Une boîte.
them handcuffs Playing for a blue van, cause if it's red nigga that's FED I guess it's back to drank and pretties, and eating at Jack Mack's Red But I
they already know The Trae and the J Z-Ro, the By-Bo Got a kin folk raw, that be gripping a gun I got a king folk right, that be dropping a bomb I got a
Detroit's king nigga [skirt] BOW! Rock City's where niggaz pimp hoes and ball Strip hoes in bars, steal clothes from malls "Arms, and ya city's got the
I'm Detroit's king nigga *skirt* BOW! Rock City's where niggaz pimp hoes and ball Strip hoes in bars, steal clothes from malls "Arms, and ya city's
Mase's eyebrows (where you at?) Climped out of a nice house, Through the front window and heard this guy shout "Hey that's my couch, bitch!" Pull a nine
But there's a huge interference they're sayin you shouldn't hear it Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit Maybe it's beautiful music
the flow it can be sickening Only a few are chosen for the reckoning It's Rastafari's world that unno living in And it's a lion's jungle unno visiting
Tha Liks and Hittman bought a fix Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch Here it tick tick tick tick {*BOOM*} Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like
lower coat prices You know me the king of L.A., New York Drivin through Brooklyn in a fo', same color as water You want X? I can cover the order Ninety
me Jake I feeling like a [? ] subway Like Jamie Foxx or Fox [? ] forte But if it wasn't right I [? ]beat a box? like a drop Porsche [Chorus x3: The
just like atlanta zoo (gucci) [Verse 2:] Drop beam Off set things color ice cream white dreams she can fuck me that's a pipe dream S-O poppin x-pills
-is a son of a bitch had the nerve to throw out the first pitch I'm just tryin' to get rich like Trump The Home Run king is now in a slump, pass me a
there's a huge interference - they're sayin you shouldn't hear it Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit Maybe it's beautiful music
one nigga, I got a six stashed Continental T's, no tense like I got a thick stab Big cigar, old money, when I drop it it's so funny Six-four switches
