En realidad, solo queria felicitarte ya lo ves por tu nuevo amor; y que sigan adelante en realidad, todas mis cartas eran broma, es verdad y mis palabras
flip like some hood money Cock them rims Let 'em spin on them haters, man And all the players Worldwide, do your thug thang (The hustler's theme) All
and out they chest like a breath do You Clay Aiken-soft You playing games until this red light's on ya It's like the Playstation's off Smith & Wesson
What's up to that Los what's cracking cause I'm straight lase What's up to that Pokey What's up to that Woldy Always kept it real never act like they
) My Block That's right In the Jungle Marine City (But on our block we still praaayyy) That's my Block That's right Los Angeles That's my block
John Gotti's and Scarface's Niggas knew, I'd be the Don in my own crew A million niggaz with automatics who swarm through You wonder who shot me here's
paper motivate niggas And my rolex races cause it hate niggas I use to only sell 8s like that laker nigga Now I'm movin 24s like I play at the staples
kid snatchin' Eyewitness news, there's been a kidnappin' Feed 'em real good, takin' home to play with Harlem Sit by the phone, just wait it's your daddy
City naw nigga Hackensack Where's that somewhere where the crackers at Real far from where the roaches and rats is at Come to Compton I'll show you where the racquet's
Both loaded workin', we about to pitch a shut out I'm New York's king, I'm New York's hardest n*gga Anything in between's a motherf**kin' target n*gga
back (Both loaded workin) we about to pitch a (shut out) I'm New York's king, (I'm New York's hardest nigga) Anything in between's a (motherfuckin' target
back Both loaded workin', we about to pitch a shut out I'm New York's king, I'm New York's hardest n*gga Anything in between's a motherf**kin' target