Me and my momma aint close, daddy ghost like most only for the hood riches when we broke that we all toast got an awesome gang yesterday, my rhyme is just press and play born in thiscold world, shit that ain't no special day just a reminder, you get to thirty you lucky mother fucker that's the words of T Stuckey grew up on Put Stones(?) and YBI Mazaradi rig, why would I lie? good all die got a question your honour, listen whatever happened to that shit death before decider? I'm on the tip why your flipping flopper G don't even know what he charged, when did he cop a plea? sloppily, shit this game did change n*ggas caught with a little work and they start naming names I'm blaming fame, Benz's, bitches and bling in today's world y'all treat a f*ckin snitch as a king switches my means of income,win some, go far, in come all the broke n*ggas and didsome(?) youcan lose one battle but lose the war my shoes is torn from walking these dawgs damn I'm talking to y'all! while you're not involved, just nodding along I've got to ask the church, shit, is God in the wrong? And to You Mr. Preacher is God in the Wrong? Y'all don't even hear me n*ggas your just nodding along
Chorus I took this time to gripe hear this rhyme I write let me clearly define my life
Verse 2 Bubba Fats is the truth, the raps out of Proof It's all steel like the gats that I shoots backwards I move from 86-88 where there's chambers remain here with heavy weight so much game around me they drown me in this sin city i've been busy since sucking on my mommas thin titty when is he stopping the world? God don't know It's all a joke to him, watching how hard we grow Death don't kissy you when god say it sort of like that little whistle in Broadway Our way, Plant workers on lines, beeper stores healthcare, f*ck potholes we got deeper sores reaped with wars my man young to kill Patrick Dexter is lovely ain't it? I'm still at it I fill my hand with Mr. Man and Tone-Loc when the lights burnt out in them grown folk my bone broke to lift this pen let me jot this down and get this in when I'm gone I hope y'all respect me then let me jot this down and get this in when I'm dead and gone I hope y'all respect me then I'm gone
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Copy to Clipboard: Me and my momma aint close, daddy ghost like most only for the hood riches when we broke that we all toast got an awesome gang yesterday, my rhyme is just press and play born in thiscold world, shit that ain't no special day just a reminder, you get to thirty you lucky mother fucker that's the words of T Stuckey grew up on Put Stones(?) and YBI Mazaradi rig, why would I lie? good all die got a question your honour, listen whatever happened to that shit death before decider? I'm on the tip why your flipping flopper G don't even know what he charged, when did he cop a plea? sloppily, shit this game did change n*ggas caught with a little work and they start naming names I'm blaming fame, Benz's, bitches and bling in today's world y'all treat a f*ckin snitch as a king switches my means of income,win some, go far, in come all the broke n*ggas and didsome(?) youcan lose one battle but lose the war my shoes is torn from walking these dawgs damn I'm talking to y'all! while you're not involved, just nodding along I've got to ask the church, shit, is God in the wrong? And to You Mr. Preacher is God in the Wrong? Y'all don't even hear me n*ggas your just nodding along
Chorus I took this time to gripe hear this rhyme I write let me clearly define my life
Verse 2 Bubba Fats is the truth, the raps out of Proof It's all steel like the gats that I shoots backwards I move from 86-88 where there's chambers remain here with heavy weight so much game around me they drown me in this sin city i've been busy since sucking on my mommas thin titty when is he stopping the world? God don't know It's all a joke to him, watching how hard we grow Death don't kissy you when god say it sort of like that little whistle in Broadway Our way, Plant workers on lines, beeper stores healthcare, f*ck potholes we got deeper sores reaped with wars my man young to kill Patrick Dexter is lovely ain't it? I'm still at it I fill my hand with Mr. Man and Tone-Loc when the lights burnt out in them grown folk my bone broke to lift this pen let me jot this down and get this in when I'm gone I hope y'all respect me then let me jot this down and get this in when I'm dead and gone I hope y'all respect me then I'm gone
Chorus
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