you're already part of the past Loudest one to scream and shout Ate your words now you're spitting them out What the fuck went wrong? Your potential
word be hard to turn when you stir My grill, my balls, my jaws Stretch twelve floors vacate your college dorm halls I can stand still and ricochet off the walls The gun sparks yourself cause your
give punchline, you probably thinkin' of the wrong kind 'Cause if it jokes, nigga know The kind that drop on your eyes, your ears, your nose and your
bond's my word, word is bond I make gadgets, illy, ill toys that kill Sleep on me, you'll get a sleepin' pill Pin that nigga, down right on the mat If
bar Take over your strip like it's Candahar You gonna see so much red you think your man on Mars That concrete that's under your feet gon land on hard
committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on
-O Spit turn to icicles in the mid air and slit your throat Drain your carcass dry rip out your heart bitch I write rhymes using your blood for my ink
word Must have the stacks to cross lines Come on [eve] Don't want your dough I don't want your car (uh-uh) Don't want your jewels No not at all (nope
riders) Yeah... the real ones The ride or die ones Come on.. [Crooked I] And I heard every single word that you say at your show But when we at the
juice in my vein, it's no pain! On some high grade things, love and happiness Finesse like the Remy, red and coke in his chest We get it liver than sippin' a screwdriver (Word
every word be hard to turn when you stir My grill, my balls, my jaws, stretch twelve floors Vacate your college dorm halls I can stand still and ricochet off the walls The gun sparks yourself cause your
Take over your strip like it's Candahar You gonna see so much red you think your man on Mars That concrete that's under your feet gon land on hard I
punchline, you probably thinkin of the wrong kind Cause if it jokes, nigga know The kind that drop on your eyes, your ears, your nose, and your throat
word Must have the stacks to cross lines Come on [Eve] Don't want your dough I don't want your car (Uh-uh) Don't want your jewels No not at all (Nope
Take over your strip like it's Candahar You gonna see so much red you think your man on Mars That concrete that's under your feet gon land on hard I got
