wounded bad and fake inside Love is on life support and happiness got murdered for smiling We love the kids that's why you give em words that don't benefit
chill You ain't real, you ain't real, lil mama, you ain't real Fake eyes, fake hair, fake nails, fake grill [Verse Three] I used to tell my little homeboy, "don't
, why you change? Fuck with me, all this shit pay, nigga fuck the fame [Young Noble] Don't remember "Hit 'Em Up," don't make us do it once.. more Yo' niggaz know, you ain't
, fuck you, die slow mother fucker. My fo' fo' (.44 magnum) make sure all yo' kids don't grow. You mother fuckers can't be us or see us. We mother fuckin
(feat. Dorasel, Thorough) [Hook x4: Eightball] We run this shit And we don't give a fuck who you be run-nin with So don't forget [Eightball] Gotta keep
with exaggerated nonsense, I don't respond simp. They just punks beyond dips. Infatuated with they lyrics never corespondent. I guess it never dawned on em that they don't
little somethin'. You ain't know what I got. Who do you think this is, when I rhyme I'm like like your daddy whoopin' on one of my kids. Look at this,
in de hollow Like your de centre of Apollo, push Can't enter his side when I'm solo, Yah, yeh don't know, so - None a yer words can hurt me, fool. None
day Talkin 'bout, he don't eat beef and he don't eat pork And my homegirl was over there and she was like "Girl he look so tall on TV!" I said, "Girl
t because I'm a bitch It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war
Starin at me like I'm a set of titties Autographin t-shirts, hats, and socks And this bitch don't even know Riddlebox Real juggalos don't want no picture
would fall to the side, or go to Way Side It ain't a motherfucker alive to come and take mine (no!) Don't procrastinate, don't waste time Never faced
like where the fuck I'm gon' sleep Grandmomma don't want me and I ain't seen dad for weeks And momma ain't never been there for me It's like she probably
cartoon kids crayola smiles children of the korn fed styles but I don't buy your lies I see through your disguise don't feel your screams or cries