Craig Jenny Instead of diet plans it's crack 200 grams I pump a G-pack, peeping for where the D's at It's slow, lookin for Rambo, the cop who got grazed
who trippin' and giving us shit Radio won't play the unk fay thought they wanted rap To advance but they ont day when I die imma aunt hay Every industry faggot who
compromise Or else I'll hop a plane With my guys QDIII said It ain't all good When you sign with a record label Who ain't Had a hot soundtrack Ever since
m about to snap and minute, there's a new Tower Records, I'm bout to stop and get a fill-up, pick the new Cypress Hill up, and go find who did That shit
Step" Left Right [Chorus] Left right its time to walk in the light of Jah not darkness Left right who Jab bless no man curse, who Jah curse no man
the streets finna eat YEAHH [Chorus] [Verse 2: T.I.] Hey Remember standin' in the trap wit 5 or 6 over-vision and a pirat That nigga who oderderd that
I won't become extravagant cause you're my management And the guys i travel with they havin it I'm just an average man who happen to have a plan Never had to front on who
disgrace, And rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace, And achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar, Then taste the fruit of man recorded
How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily Say me say Many Moni, Say me say manymanymany How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily Say me say Many Moni, Say me
, my eye 7 Sign I put who got you, too, who shot you Who got you, glock you and stop you (Stop you, stop you) Look who got you, too, who shot you Who
the same, but what do we gain by giving you niggas fame? So we let the records show. The forty-four mag'll tag 'em, stack up them niggas who try to
do you know me I roll in your city and people be pinnin me yo but some nigga just told me He put in your record and you was disrespecting off the T-O-
Pass like my duns on lock holdin the pot down slow But assuring this, spoon-feeding these Starvin ass heads catchin shakes, feenishly I ball in this, word assortin this, probably recording
these coppers, try'nna make the coldest Spot you with the bricks and the baking sodas Me and my soldier, we taking over, taking payola From all these stations and record
dick, and I don't give a fuck what you spit Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you can get 'Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record
ain't never bought no whole CD of Shady And all I hear is pop tunes come on the Radio And they play 'em 20 times in a row daily And they very well maybe
little panther Answers to the nom de plum butter Nice, preciser, rubber, slicer and cutter In a freshly dip state, I contemplate Who?s avenue be makin