A
i be dat c-side thug--winkin ta hoes niggas get muggd//
robbin riches from bitches--deliverin suckas them slugs//
up out that 9 milli--call mah nigga phillie he got that really//
pointin them pistols up out tha window--on ya blok wit tha glock sprayin silly//
suicidal tha cutthoat--got tha choppa under da P coat//
wit tha machete in tha pant leg--ready ta spray ya clik and cut ya thoat//
its murda he wrote//
this be ta all my UTM mob souljas-- flippin crack rox tha size of bouldas//
u couldnt move us wit telekenesis--cuz most of yaw niggas be soft like fecess//
yaw niggas aint got tha muscle ta do it--eat some spinach like popeye//
I leave yaw niggas like chinese sushie--raw cut and eatin alive//
pick and choose which limb ta loose--it dont matter ta me either way ima take ya feet out ya shoes//
I got no time ta play games--leavin hard headed niggas wit soft brains//
my words be too complex--i tear holes in mainframes//
and everyday im askin tha same thang--ta give my life ta da game?//
or let tha game take my life away--iono bout erybody else but i feel like ima die taday//
this feelin jus wont go away--i think i need some help from a psych.//
and if that nigga dont get here quik--ima take more den my life//
ima get ta shootin wit tha strap--and get ta pokin niggas wit mah knife//
i think somethins missin in mah head--my minds always left its never right//
mah only tool in this box is a blunt--no wrench thas why my screws aint tight//
and im pretty sure that someday ima die by da gun of stranger--a fellow banger//
whos doin jus like me whatever it takes--to maintain and release my anger//
im left in this world all alone--nothin but i microphone so i bought my own//
godbless the child who holds his own.....
robbin riches from bitches--deliverin suckas them slugs//
up out that 9 milli--call mah nigga phillie he got that really//
pointin them pistols up out tha window--on ya blok wit tha glock sprayin silly//
suicidal tha cutthoat--got tha choppa under da P coat//
wit tha machete in tha pant leg--ready ta spray ya clik and cut ya thoat//
its murda he wrote//
this be ta all my UTM mob souljas-- flippin crack rox tha size of bouldas//
u couldnt move us wit telekenesis--cuz most of yaw niggas be soft like fecess//
yaw niggas aint got tha muscle ta do it--eat some spinach like popeye//
I leave yaw niggas like chinese sushie--raw cut and eatin alive//
pick and choose which limb ta loose--it dont matter ta me either way ima take ya feet out ya shoes//
I got no time ta play games--leavin hard headed niggas wit soft brains//
my words be too complex--i tear holes in mainframes//
and everyday im askin tha same thang--ta give my life ta da game?//
or let tha game take my life away--iono bout erybody else but i feel like ima die taday//
this feelin jus wont go away--i think i need some help from a psych.//
and if that nigga dont get here quik--ima take more den my life//
ima get ta shootin wit tha strap--and get ta pokin niggas wit mah knife//
i think somethins missin in mah head--my minds always left its never right//
mah only tool in this box is a blunt--no wrench thas why my screws aint tight//
and im pretty sure that someday ima die by da gun of stranger--a fellow banger//
whos doin jus like me whatever it takes--to maintain and release my anger//
im left in this world all alone--nothin but i microphone so i bought my own//
godbless the child who holds his own.....
