, Ice motherfuckin' T Bush, Quayle and Clinton got a problem with me The motheruckin' T, I give less than a fuck about Any of them or their fuckin' police friends
me White people like me But don't like them What's the fuck up Are you my friend? Hell no, you're a racist You say you got one black friend, so you're
, got you runnin' like a fag So, keep your mutha-fuckin' jokes 'Cuz, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs, no yokes but smokes Crakers and them dirty mackers friends
to 10? You like the way I bend, now you askin where I been. If I'm doing him, now you starting that again? I dont wanna sex ya friend. He don't got
The road to success is not straight, there's a curve called failure A loop called confusion, speed bumps called friends And red light called enemies,
Thought if I gave you everything That we'd survive and you'd be all I'd ever need But you can't earn what lovers owe I don't want a police man, I want
Face down, ass up That's the way we like to Do you in my Benz truck Then he call your friends up Yea, I put it on her She won't even bring her mans up
need to go back to work again." Joey, Joey, King of the streets, child of clay. Joey, Joey, What made them want to come and blow you away? The police
down the hall I got home and told my Mom how my day went, she said "If they were laughing you don't need 'em 'cause they're not good friends" For the
In New York freedom looks like Too many choices In New York I found a friend To drown out the other voices Voices on the cell phone Voices from home
Come gather 'round me, people, here's a story you never heard 'Bout me and my friends, and some things that occured We thought we'd get some money, we
back Said I'm a mess without you can't you see Baby please come back Now when I think about it You've been so good... to me And I know all your friends
But the money that I earn Won't burn, so come again Better watch that MAC-10, nigga This one's for me and my friends We steadily rollin' I told ya
-friends wanna try me, bloody riot is how we like it, you all invited. Get so heated, you'll feel the temperature risin', so heated we spit back flames. Front page article, all the police
, a damn thang Now why did they kill him It's one of my niggas is dreamin', schemin' on making a million Tryin' feed they children and police keep coming
Krayzie: Friends, friends, friends, friends, how many of us have them? [How many of us have them?] Friends, friends, friends, friends, ones you can
with all of us souljas. For without we ain't think none of this would be possible. Without further adue, I bring to you: Chief Leathaface, my friend,
On the front line I press Until in peace I may rest For battles I can't win With stripes I must defend Done been to the pen, behind friends And I still