调：C# minor
Intro 1
Am
G#m
Am
Verse 1
Pirahna niggas bite dick,
yo Son, it's on again
Listen kid yo, you was born to be
a pawn but I'm a bishop
How you figure god, what,
flow on the track, flip the obstacle
From California to courts,
it's over God so, taste the soul food
the Timberlands in November
Shorty called me Santa in December
my Wally's got messed up
Autograph pressed up what,
blessed enough to blow your rest up
My dolo rapper get you sent back
Represent the gentlemens
who bent that
la costra nostra
We movin through your hood like
Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement
So keep the bust the gun Boo
Like that bad ass bitch in
Dead Presidents
Check it now, you get the gold dick award
It's like jail, and it's the sixth floor
now let's see
Half of y'all niggas built your vine
Faggots, homos, yo,
my flavor liver than adobo
Stay militant kid, twist ya like bolo
playing with my Clan but you be fearin' it
Fake one, I'm guaranteed to
Please, y'all niggas
money's gettin' low
But could you come back though,
set up shop, and get the fat glow?
So what the deal now, link up with us,
Faggot (bitch), you fuck around
punk (seven fifteen)
Verse 2
crab? Nah
let his hand swing
I ought to punch a hole in his palm
No more said,
knew your chump ass was dead
When I saw the four four reflecting
off your shiny forehead
ain't nuttin' changed nigga
Still shame on a nigga,
who tried to run game
fuckin bitches on Persian rugs
Washin niggas like detergent,
it's the surgeon
Steele's 12 gauge
Front page, "Daily Chronicle" reads
"Hell up in Gotham,
take heed and protect yo' seeds"
you lack tranquility
In your rap utilities,
to fuck with the abilities
Microphone post tone like
a rotary phone
Ancient poems and poetry,
Explosive head bullets,
black hooded
Timberland footed ninjas, who
full metal jacket clips
Surrender your goods
and your merchandise
For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist
and vice
Come quietly,
Wu- Tang Clan rules society
Because of variety,
And lead them to defy me, diary, ya Irie?
this high annointed king
To make a deal, I be the one to appoint
To catch somethin so dope,
it left Monica Lynch pussy drippin'
and split millions of dollars
And built with thousands of scholars
Legal kid brown in Nicaragua
Gave birth to MC's, thieves
and bank robbers
and took worldwide trips
And my dick's been sucked
the world's best refreshment
But none of the above compare
to the one- twenty lessons
in the home that I rest in
Verse 3
Enter my zone get blown to 99 sections
Collecting minds at the door,
The flavors raw,
We at odds 'til we even motherfucker
Taste mine, straight shots
under pressure
And mad nervy,
Ticallion, we ain't worried
Keep them sick niggas
Picture this, watch the birdy
Am
d Dirty
With sharp pins that be stabbing you
Pins and needles, needles and pins
Verse 4
ice look fly up on
the keyboard son
Niggas ran up on me law,
That's right, exile the fake,
Feed 'em food, let the fake evaporate
production
Y'all niggas guess who stuck son,
Switch, finger itch,
starin' at you like a bitch
Maybe y'all niggas snitched
G#m
Am
Youse a loner, Adidas shell top while I
Sip a Corona, read the Robb Report,
then bone her
E
G#m
Not necessarily mean to be rude boo,
We in the mushrooms,
chased the high neck in the custom
Baggy jeans, thick ropes god,
Chill, y'all niggas know what time it is
He caught a slug for lyin'
Yeah you was lyin',
where's the cash, cryin'
Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian
Lex retali' back whistlin' fake fucks
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