mistake, You're broke, The come up's a bitch Make the right moves and forget about sleep concentrate on the paper chase, Join the elite Few dun got mad
down Dreamt about ripping the mic with my own sound So I tried to write rhymes somethin' like them My boys said, ?That ain't you Ice? That shit sounds
no time out, it's time to rhyme out You've dug your own grave, now you must climb out Dig out, crawl out, hide from the fallout 'Cause when I get mad,
putting punk's heads out Doors is shut,there's no chance to get out I got the motherfucking side with bi clocks Raise the auto-loader and let off the buckshot (Sounds
know Rhyme Syndicate bosses Any show, any tour, we house program Donald-D is who I am, damn Attempt to do this, boy, you're takin' a risk 'Cause my voice sounds
Sound like my mic is right I-I am not a human, shout to all my moon men Yeah, they call me Tune, got them bitches tuned in It's a crazy world so I stay
away Cough up the cash before shit get really bad You don't really really wanna see a n-gga when he mad [Chorus] Yeah, this that Power of the Dollar sound
pulled up that's Cornbread Them niggaz from Philly would of called him an old head But he an OG remind me of Chaz and Bump real low key Sounded like
like no-one has ever ever made you feel I mean it's part of our relationships, amazing still I might just put up with the arguing and stay for real you looking mad
datin' mad models and poppin' mad bottles tonight, Punk bitch Whoa whoa oh, Punk bitch, Whoa whoa oh, Punk bitch, Whoa whoa oh, We datin' mad models and poppin' mad bottles tonight Uh, yeah, sounds
it up, you can't stop 'cause it feels like an overdose (Feels like an overdose, like an overdose) Oh, oh, evacuate the dance floor Oh, oh, I'm infected by the sound
I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your love is the best sound I have ever heard I like the way
and out Whip brand new, you know what Tim about Ferrari 5-99 Windows Tinted out I-I-I'm the man m-my beats is crazy You want my sounds, you gotta pay
have the last laugh You bag of bitch with the potato bag ass Yesterday I was quiet and made the ass glass ... drop another heater and it made the ass mad
me growl and hum say hmmm... a boom boom shak and the beat that she throw at me knocking me flat Number two I'd cruise where the grass is smooth and the sound
name it's that time again not sure if I'm sleeping but the vision's as clear as fog on the pier someone fishing aimlessly a thought's an idea a sound
the, feel the vibration We killin', killin', killin' your radio station Kill 'em with the sound, kill, kill 'em with the sound Hit 'em with the frequency
it fixed I talk all them other chicks just to make you jealous How can we make it right when we both put up a fit? You make me so mad it's kind of hard