a couple of books too, son But I don't even know, tell me which book you readin' from Aight, next caller, hey Busta, heard about you on Miss Jones Why
me. I can't be held accountable, so instead I pass the blame, besides I wanna live forever like the cast of fame. serious trouble will pass me by
move My bitch [? ] pull the hammer, make it do what it do Hustler, a son of one, bitch I'm a son of one My money it got right, copped me another gun [
hot ones hot son That's why I carry hot guns I'm gonna beat ya now lay Fuckin' fly misses Why you niggas at the crib tryin' to find misses Yo I'm gettin
accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic squad please take me, please calm me, please make
downstairs and watch him make sure you're armed Cop grabbed me by my neck pushed me towards the damn door See my homies, locked down on the same floor So
yeah, so what? [Roxie Hart] You lied to me... [Fred Casely] That's right, sweetheart. That's right. [Roxie Hart] You son of a bitch... (shoot) Son
' that) And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that) Son, you know they can't stand me 'Cuz
so - None a yer words can hurt me, fool. None a yer combats mean fuck, fool. Nuffin' you say can hurt me, fool. I feel bad, pity for you. Rue the lack
me sicker than head tumors Humor me, by huggin me sayin you lovin me Playa phony niggaz be buggin, I can tell cause the thug in me wanna sell drugs and
rumors shit is makin me sicker than head tumors Humor me, by huggin me sayin you lovin me Playa phony niggaz be buggin, I can tell Cause the thug in me
stand so it takes niggas like me to explain I show vengeance violence and hatred Because underneath it's so much pain I ain't no sissy or punk so don't trip when you see me
stick Britney Spears in a room full of mirrors So she gets fifty years of bad luck Club and swear at Christina Aguilera When I grab her by the hair and
Hey-ey-ey, I believe I'd miss the call But you see if it wasn't for bad luck, Trying to tell you son if it wasn't for bad luck, now now Oh, oh, I wouldn
kickin' up dust And you can spread rumors shit is makin me sicker than head tumors Humor me by huggin' me sayin' you lovin' me Playa phony niggas be buggin
kickin' up dust And you can spread rumors shit is makin' me sicker than head tumors Humor me by huggin' me sayin' you lovin' me Envious playa-haters
Them squares don't under stand so it takes niggas like me to explain it I show vengeance violence and hatred because underneath it's so much pain I aint no sissy or punk so