I'ma, rock them dickies, Air Force Ones Til the, feds come get me air out guns From the, P H I L L Y, to the, L B C to C P T, uh This for my niggas
it in I'm in the back where it's dark as hell Shit you know me, VIP, nigga spark the L And I come to roll a ounce or more, bounce wit whores Shit all
Blaze me On the job like Dick Tracy Hit the cure for that ill shit like Ben Casey, M.D. Symbolic thrill like God he shocked it Like a finger in a light
pray before ya wake up Doin' hard, I'm clippin' their head Rentio, bitch aware used to live in Brooklyn now you rest In a sementary, it's a full moon again now get a
so full of thug faces Momma gave a nigga breath A life of stress, I invest in a vest And makin' niggaz watch they every step Label me a threat and I
gold head lights Man, I'm on an all night flight Worth about a millie on a silly night On the really,I'm worth about a hundred millie on a rainy night
'im: "Four, good buddy, I made me a study An' I figger it's the dark a' the moon, son It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall An' the big hand'
K And the candy apple tray she gets heavy in L.A. When Track died, Mack cried Once we start banging again then he did a back slide I was in tune with
cop more of the green Got a BX connect and a Georgia Team My life is juicy nigga It was all a dream It's my house so I'm a ask you to leave I'm like carbon
burning inna aya run On the dub, there is no return! Keep out blades and guns good is bass and blunts Me like them both when they move my butt. Moon
me stay, they showed me two hooters a piece I stayed for a second but you know I gotta skate It's like a race, cops chase me, I'm chasing the moon Before
the, L B C to C P T, uh [HOOK] [Verse 2] I'm on the block til the pack get sold Don't pack just roll Hit L.A. like Shaq and Kob' Nigga please, got trees
later ? Before ya wake up! Doin' hard, I'm clippin' their head Rentio, bitch aware used to live in Brooklyn now you rest In a sementary, it's a full moon, now get a
congregation so full of thug faces Momma gave a ni**a breath, a life of stress I invest in a vest and makin ni**az watch they every step Label me a threat
, Mista, Mista Smith You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?) Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad Yo... I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents And
circulate Street politicians on a suicide mission Crime vision finger itchin from a scope-view position Dangerous ground Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down [Method Man