imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat imma bust her in my new car uh in da backseat in da backseat in da backseat
in the spot and see tonight we have a pack house We all in the building and it's rocking like a crack house All the sexy women wearing dresses with their backs
up in the spot and see tonight we have a pack house We all in the building and its rocking like a crack house All the sexy women wearing dresses with their backs
six pack,throwback you already know that im in love with yo stomach six pack throwback u already know that im in love with yo stomach six pack, throwback
swell the ranks Wear the badge with honour We don't fire blanks Million tons of passion Breathing down your backs Turning on the systems Power up your packs
are a credit to us all How come we're stading with our backs against the wall? One thousand congressmen assemble every day They'll send us packing on
heal each other And although it seems heaven sent We ain't ready, to see a black President, uhh It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact the penitentiary's packed
and rip shit up I had enough and I don't give a fuck Niggas!, isn't just the blacks also a gang of mutha-fuckas dressed in blue slacks They say niggas hang in packs
saying) Verbal assault, rhymes rippin' through the mix Check...yo [Verse One] Check the rap cat spit the phat shit to mack dips While you pack clips
on a deathwish Stepping to this, I'm venemous I'll leave you breathless I spat words, waxed and taxed herbs Your raps absurd, backs get fractured, My
and rip shit up I had enough and I don't give a fuck Niggas!, isn't just the blacks Also a gang of mutha-fuckas dressed in blue slacks They say niggas hang in packs
my only friend Remember when we used to park On Butler Street out in the dark Remember when we lost the keys And you lost more than that in my backseat
] [Verse 3] Ay yo, we toast to that, it's the cat that broke backs To a soul slap, a smoke a track, how dope is that Poet for rap, wrote backs that most
that I got her God, I'm a daddy, I'm so glad that her mum didn't abort Now you probly get this picture from my public persona That I'm a pistol-packing
, juggling jobs, guzzling jugs So here's a toast to federal checks Hetero sex, unaffordable medical debts, huh We travel in packs and ravel in facts and
they business Piling out that cash Long line of credit cause I like my thug to last See they like it when I talk back Dough stack, cut backs, we don't
self if judgement was passed, yo, you be in hell (right up the ass-hole) the haten will get ya if ya let it pack your speedo's I hear its hot where you
