The problem isn't the lyrics on the records. It's the fear of the white kids liking a black artist. But the real problem is the fear of the white girl
The problem isn't the lyrics on the records It's the fear of the white kids liking a black artist But the real problem is the fear of the white girl Falling
all you other rappers with self-proclaimed titles Shut up and face the true supreme idol Rappers, I'm here, so come get it But those that tried are real
Where fans online like I invented the laptop My black Godfather to match my black revolver With bullets that'll tear through your vest and body armor
old, not even worth a download I would have niggaz hunt you like a hound's nose Problem is you pussy, the whole town knows So why let the body count
that got me addicted I count my limits and it's got me winning And on my mind all the time And you got me digging Of a one night stand or a real commitment
no niggas spookin' me, check yourself if you're real, Bottom-line, I got in this game to sit back and chill. Time to make it subway, I wanna count some
[Intro: Method Man] You don't want no problems, problems You don't want no problems, problems Yeah... real man... with ya stinkin' ass Come on... that
homicide, not a problem (that's no problem) You want to talk genocide not a problem (that's no problem) Now if you're speaking genocide not a problem (that's no problem
(feat. Big Ed, Fiend, Mr. Serv-On) [Big Ed] My initial's explosive (BOOM!), left my enemies' corpse exposed Cats when they told ya, now D-Body did the
You think Oakland California is a city of punks It only takes a second, to pop the trunk And just like that you know it's real You're in the right damn
problems I'm the problem solver [Fifth Verse: Ms. Tee] I don't want no drug dealers out there gettin' robbed and killed, I want niggas and niggas and niggas to be real
radio Or seen the tv See me for me She smiled touchin my chest Trigga you a mess Baby im for real She said you better be Baby im so for real you can
seen the tv See me for me She smiled touchin my chest Trigga you a mess Baby I'm for real She said you better be Baby I'm so for real you can go ask
town ready to thug and go down Go pound for pound, nigga that's the motto Let me see you throw them things and if it's real Nigga keep it real show me
