lyrics, I?ve been ripped into words Explained like physics leaving your vision blurred Helping the unrighteous men there is no need to worry Crush the wicked, in away with all his fists
earth Can blend rhythms like my will, surreal spinnin Ever-movin like evolution it's retribution For sellin roots, lessen futures, I'm steppin to fuse? ya Sun
yourself goodbye 'cause Amu know you no plush Cheese dime, let me try her, gold smile Fro in the pile, beep beeped my sun visor She filled with sun
what? TO avoid bein stuck and blazed up Laced up, struck from the waste up, embraced by the muts in the cut Bullets sizzle up, leave you fist fucked,
or the signs Big waste of time Riding on a curve ball Tumble down a landslide at the end Say I'm wrong again Ever since you double talked double fisted
with ya sun gear Whoop the sleeves off of mutherfuckers that try to run in here Serious look on my face and a boot in my mouth and balled up fists These
the bullets Stuntin on these bitches see we do this every summer, Pull out the hummers Calli for the runners, Sun do shine..shine on the sun, make another
that makes you jump like a lunatic On pogo sticks, waving your fists So, if you catching a fit, talkin' that shit I don't really know but you better scram Hurry in a double
I bought a yacht to fish, I spent a fifth on a house with a satelite dish, I bought a brewery and walk around all day with double fists, And got at least
, knock who?s there? Jack Jack who? You You're not with your crew, what you gunna do Knock, knock who?s there? Big Big who? Gun Point me to the sun, watch
fight rhyme P yeah you heard of him but, I ain't concerned with them Nigga I pop more guns than you holdin' them Make my route while the sun's out and
'm real sorry" but that didn't cut it, I started to protest, but Dad said Homer: Shut it. Get up. Mow the lawn. Move it. On the double. 'Cause if you
the chickens, not the passengers Hopefully the crack in his armor spreads to his avarice Never that, Wilburs multiply quicker than triples And hunt their truffles in fistfuls
my thing see the sun been out on me, but they swear I been in the rain my swangas poke out so wide like I'm ridin in double lanes Texan wide wheels lookin
avoid bein stuck and blazed up Laced up, struck from the waste up, embraced by the muts in the cut Bullets sizzle up, leave you fist fucked, intense
joy Knock knock who?s there? Jack Jack who? You Your not with your crew What u gunna do Knock knock who?s there? Big Big who? Gun Point me to the sun
scientist of hits that make you jump like a lunatic On pogo sticks, waving your fists So if you catching a fit I really don't know but you better scram hurry in a double
Stuntin on these bitches see we do this every summer, Pull out the hummers Calli for the runners, Sun do shine... shine on the sun, make another mil,
