dimes Singin' lemons to the limes to the break of dawn Excuse me (six minutes) Everlast you on And it go on and on like a rolling stone, baby, anywhere
number three Tom Jefferson stayed up to write The Declaration late at night So he and his wife had a great big fight And she made him sleep on the couch
, hey, hey, hey, hey Don't forsake a desperate man Hope you know that's who I am Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey One, two, three, four Five, six,
nigga [Chorus] [G. Dep] Eighty-one I had fun, eight-two I was new Eight-three I did me, eight-four I had grew Eighty-five it got live, eight-six in
in your jeep, on an off road Pump this to your blows on the way to the tow Bang this til you're bein old when you at home on the six-four, sittin on chrome
regroup, can't recoup I'll be damned if you get more points than me Sell more joints than me Steal your faith, take a puff, inhale my name Smoke on it, shit, choke on
of the hats in the back of my Porsche and So you better use caution, knowin I'm the boss and I'm sittin on pyramids, flossin I don't really gotta talk
pot and boil it on a D Dot beat Sometimes I get drunk for stress relief Other times I put 'Life After Death' on and peep We ride, what's a four door
Only givin head to those niggaz who rapped well Owned a black cell, flip it, sippin on Whitman cool mints Rumors spread, half a G she took, six or more Two bagged up, four
to get the package, got there it was gone Hold on say word, you got to be jokin' Don't worry about it dun, I'm on the next thing smokin' Hit Bristal up on
on, you, you, you, you see how we bubble y'all women Come on, dibble and dabble how we be lovin' y'all women, come on Let's get it on and let me hit
what you smoking on I call it 6 c-notes got it on the westside, cost me 6 c-notes nigga sold it to me so hot call him heatstroke poured all the powder on
just watch me. (five) Five six don't you want a little fix. (six) Count down get a little crazy now. (nine) Nine ten see me want to ruin them. Hold on
if you're gonna But my jam will still be kickin' on your neighborhood corner As my bass is max'n out the v.u.s on your box There'll be no doubt within
house,yeah (verse one) You go on and on and you don't stop Got sticky sneakers from the blood of a shot cop Belt and a club,I'm leaving tracks on the
' Made the Rolling Stones seem sweet as Kool-Aid too '96, '97, '98, '99 2000, 2001 and beyond O two, O three, O four, O five O six and seven, O eight
Konichiwa ladies when I'm out in Japan, I'm a Tokyo Giant like Ichiro I am piss poor nigga from the hood but I blew Now I bounce six-fours up and down
, six shows, quarter million on my schedule Bangledesh and Gucci Mane, niggas know they in trouble Green ice, red light, caution Gucci rock yellow [Chorus] Lemons on