T.V. screen They'll say we're winning, but will never tell you what was gained- Cash in the pockets of the businessmen who call the shots While shots are fired
I'm tied with indecision I know exactly what I mean Too hard to deal with bullshit stalemates Stalemates of deceit So I hit the bottle I hit the bottle
ass up from the depths of hell [Daddy Nitro] Come! In a de ghetto tings are wild round de clock Some man a smoke crack and soem man a fire shot Me
Your friends are getting most concerned Loose with the truth, maybe it's your fire Baby I hope you don't get burned When the smoke has cleared, she
shot him Put his tooly on the front seat Continued his mission, as he headed down the street The kids was just starin' at each other J.D. rolled by and smoked
holla at a playa Cell phone or pager If you bout paper Holla at a holla at a holla at a playa Remix Baby Jae Millz You can go and tell them other
me 'bout the flames I couldn't see through the smoke When I need answers, accusations what you mean you gon' choke You can't stay, you gotta go Ain't no other
What happened to that other rapper Y'all used to fuck with? Man, we ain't fucking with that fake motherfucker MC Uh, whatever that motherfucker name
real? And how was Kennedy killed? I ain't mad, I must've smoked a ton of reefer sipped Coronas With Latifah broke the code of Geneva I know when I reach the other
' bitches out, all they wanna do Is sneak a blunt or two out yo house Try to help us, with a plan guard yo grill and watch yo back Bitches known for showin' other
de vildeste gutter (hanging with the coolest guys) det minder mig om vi stikker det af (it reminds me we stapping it (set on fire)) for de kalder mig
before you even start to Playin with fire - don't you know that you're gonna get lit? Playin with fire - don't you know when to quit? Playin with fire
like him and hope you f-ckin? wife him Yeah, nuttin? like him Yeah, ooh, yeah, oh Aint no other, aint no other n-ggas A-aint no, aint no other n-ggas
my smoke I'm behind in my smoke On the back burner You can just simmer around But on the front burner You betta burn, a fat one Roll it up, fire that
tap my black Nokia Black fathers, black mothers, black brothers handcuffed to each other, goin upstate in black buses Black thugs, wrap drugs in backwoods Smoke
Houston hustlers, who grinding and hit the quota Who fire and hit the doja, you high when you sniff the odor Told ya you gotta have, a foreign or buy
with me and strap with a vengeance More or less Ghostface Killah'll stretch you out like mad words in a sentence Smell the gas burning (yeah) feel the fire
, half-retarded Swear by our forefathers Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness Bring you out the other
