, I, I came in here on business It could work out pretty good It could work out pretty good Yeah, pertainin' to this bein' a dog ass world and all A brother
stiff **** paralyzed from the neck down My goon stick **** turn soldiers to stick figures Hand on **** real life born **** We roll out like four wheelers, **** sent us From
me be When I come up to them gates, I hope you say you heard of me Now Kendrick Curtis gone, them angels took him home They gave my brother ten years
't you Was somebody from ya team" From the cradle to the grave From the cradle to the grave From the cradle to the grave From the cradle to the grave From
of impact from the iron side of The gat as I attack the track From the blind side of the pack, Starks pass the chrome Watch a nigga get blown out his
, experimentations On their faces there bear world relations Of mothers that carry the pain Of blood stained streets where sisters mourn and wail Big brothers been slain from
then they say (he's wack) But deep down in your hear you and them dudes from Ridley's don't believe that Everyone's down with the Ak brother Every place
I put a couple dots on your block like dominoes Red beaming them, I stay with my team and them I keep four nines in the tuck like Steve and them This
'm locked you hoes disrespecting me I'll be out before you bitch niggas can count to ten but I can touch you way before I'm out the pen, no names I don
a surprise for her. [STEPMOTHER] I have emptied a pot of lentils into the ashes for you. If you have picked them out again in two hours' time, you shall
place Our years of planning are bearing fruit Long have we waited for this day Now let us set out with our troops Oh, yes, I long to pave their streets
not, fuck them [Verse 3] I'm tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as fuck Drunk white girls the only way I'll get my dick sucked Suspended from school
t know who the fuck you really think you foolin' You're so far from up to par and your shit needs improvin' From your conversation the way you come across
you feel nigga Like the theme song from Hill Street Blues This is real, this is ill street news How he gone, and left his moms mind struck And now his brother
you want another ball? FZ: He had a way with that chicken . . . Phyllis: He . . . look at the way he handles that chicken, he had a way . . . look at the way
be done put a hit out on a nigga, plus I can't keep up With them keys, locked in the fo'-do' Backseat drivers havin' out-of-body experiences Wakin up
in block letters of cursive Curse my circus, serve this surface And watch how the brother fet over The fly Casanova with the frankincense odor Bear witness