's a shame boy You the main one tryna stall right, sold the broads out the game boy I beat 'em down like chop, chop, chop Yessuh, cut 'em up and leave 'em
it confused when I rap these mellow flows ?cause all my Titos got bricks like a yellow road [Big Sean:] GOOD, I do it B.I.G. Sean Don nigga (But you
Uhuh Uhuh Uh So what you sayin'? What you sayin'? Do we sound that bad? Nah, your just a little bit mad So what you sayin'? You wanna make a track? Lets make
So what I wanna do, hopefully is, I wanna be I-I-I don't wannabe I am Tupac 2005 guess who's back? G-g-guess who's back G-g-guess who's back? G-g-guess
Fact Don't Mind Asking Cooling On Em Moving On Em My Shooters On Em Show This Flow Off Like A Trophy And A New Diploma Graduation Crackers Say That I Wasn't Gon Make
out, yo, A.G. is living fat in the mental In other words, can I get a soul clap? Diggin' in the crates for something smooth Showbiz & A.G., yo money, we make
with Angie Come live from the streets, from Harlem to Q.B And when it drops, game over, you'll see Introducin, finally, the legendary Kool G It's B.G
'm not sayin' this to put nobody down This is what I see at the playground ya know Aww yeah! Another ABC smash gonna make ya mad! Uh come on come on
'm not sayin' this to put nobody down This is what I see at the playground, ya' know Aww yeah, another ABC smash gonna make ya mad Uh, come on, come
porch with a cheeseburger tryin to lure you outside! 'Cause he's in it, Bizarre say G-g-g-g-g-g-unit I bet you throw some extra "g's" in it Just like
my block, cause they gone pay gonna make my fetti, keep the beat steady drop your drop on the belly, make your trunk wave keep your corner paid, make
dice, them twos and threes ain't nuttin nice Them threes and fours I'ma roll fo sho, fo's and vogues, we call 'em swang My partner Bun B bring the pain
give these weak dudes the blues And separate them from they jewels, teach 'em don'ts and do's I raise tools, make crews make decisions confused All spectators
mad, I-I-I know ya mad I-I-I know ya mad, I know ya mad I know ya mad, I know ya mad I know ya mad, I know ya mad I know ya mad 'cause you hate that I
T to the Feds gon' mess with me And F-A-B, when they see, mixtape money yes they pay me Mugabe, Inspector G, bring 'em all cause they cain't get me Ten
, the Ferrari Testarossa We can bet on any point on the dice Pick 'em up, shake 'em twice, get 'em, girl, look, I'm nice I'm so clean with my G-Unit
priest] First of all everybody cant mc Second of all, y'all all sound wack to me Third y'all sound like a group of wannabes Either it's tupac or another b.i.g
mo' Yeah I got the yay mo' Slip double played partna Parkin lot pimpin on em Droppin toppin flippin on em Cop a block and flip it on em Pussy boy boxy