blend Between you and I Why'd you confide Now all your friends can slide Between you and I Between you and I Between you and I Between you and I The
I hustle from first to first through seasons And you gotta accept this, I ball like the Celtics A. Walker, shake you up And I have Ted Foster to make you
I love thick chicks,thick chicks I like to stick Every girl that I fucked knows I got a big dick And I can tickle a clit and I can cripple a bitch Wanna
thin between what I rep and I live When you violate mine I'm getting back at you kid Don't let it get to the gun clappin and shit Plastic wrap back smack you
Jackson. Go ahead and wreck yer hill. Go play yer hand, you big talkin' gal And make a big fool of yerself. Get on to Jackson. Go comb yer hair. I'm
[Killa Bamz] Red dog Ebonese, half Gotti and Lebonese You see me posted, lifted like my tape to text Poverty projects son, and I ain't scared to talk
chest I'm nice times twice I use this mic as a lyrical sacrafice got you in my grips like vice I represent the T-dot and I'm known to keep a hot spot
heads To some I'm prophetic To the rest I'm pathetic I led a movement of mentals Against the feds and point spread On beats madd noize and funky instrumentals
get you hot? i get a little hysterical sometimes. the panic you shouldn't have been so sentimental. all that kicking and screaming. everything i touch
I do what I can and when I gots the time if you love me like you say baby you will stay down Can you feel me? [Chorus:] Oooooh, if you only knew If you
screwed You wanna box I'll swang, say bitch I'll fight If you miss with the left, then catch him with the right You wanna box I'll swang, say bitch I'
and back and hell again I've gone. You're not my type. Not my type. What's the difference between you and me? I do what I want, and you do what
beer before I write a rhyme And if I have to drive I avoid the one time Stay between the lines and I won't get pulled over I don't need luck cause I got
between a fellowship of hoods Poetry thats pure and you can tell our shits the goods So underground you wouldn't sell it if you could I'm that lyricist your parents warned you
Jackson; go ahead and wreck your health. Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself, Yeah, go to Jackson; go comb your hair! Honey, I
ahead and wreck your health. Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself, Yeah, go to Jackson; go comb your hair! Honey, I'm gonna
