hustlin' on them streets Don't play them for weak 'cause them will shoot ya Real young killa gangsta rude-boy Destined for death yet o'm your future
hustlin' on them corners Don't play them for weak cuz them will shoot ya Real young killa gangsta rude-boy destined for death yet O'm your future How
I never traveled further north than old van courtland park And never further south than the aquarium I've seen the charm of jersey city, but first let
wee (chorus 2) [baby beesh] I know You find it hard to believe that I am The genie of your lamp and I can Do anything you wish but right now I'm commanding
stay Cause I say so I let's go, my trigger has not heart And I'm standin in the dark Bout to blow your ass apart Fool [Chorus] Who am I The stalker of
[Brooks](spoken) Sorry to interrupt your rehearsal, Ma'am, but about Mr. Beale; surely he's coming home for the party? [Edith](spoken) I should say
I'm modifying the weather from behind a weather shield Writing with a feathered quill, gettin' more ill I hope I am not alone, that would be terrible If I am