who pray on souls weaker with lies I'm going crazy trying to defend myself and you're to blame I'm doing alright I'm doing just fine my bodies on fire
shall see a legend of war written in blood and the deaths of men... a legend none shall soon forget... [The War Testament of Caylen-Tor (On the Night
s I rapid fire bustin sprayment When I was a baby my pacifier was a grenade pin And yes I'm from tampa No I'm not a buccaneer but I'll be buckin near
We don't fire warning shots, niggas fire on swat And if they get me, Brooklyn gonna riot on spot I'm from the hood, so I'm supplying bomb rock 'Round
corny wanna be diss song kings on the radio Talkin' bout how they gon' spray and take me away But I'm the true living, legend I'm not to be questioned
around and soak ya Louisiana gunner, I'm bout my holster And if you gettin greasy, I'm an ulcer I'm bickin back, bein bool on the Eastside Or New Orleans
these corny wanna be diss song kings on the radio Talkin' bout how they gon' spray and take me away But I'm the true living, legend I'm not to be questioned
Old men gossip with tales, you know? Police burners with bodies on 'em, bury 'em Worry for minutes then we fire them (blaow!) I see firemen, ambulances
down the fort Fort knocks despise clocks heart bleeds I plant seeds Guaranteed my first son, a descendent of a legend I'm edging towards falling off
, one sinner within the peace Release the hound, sound with a demented twist Bent but the incentive is inventiveness Pay dues, man come on I spent the went on
fire Has got a hold of me Can't say I don't want it 'cause he really put it on me In a way that I don't know if I'm going or coming Dip me in water '
, I cut, you die, I get off I'm crawling up on the car trying to rip the moon roof lid off, out there Bitch, turned the wipers on hazard lights and blew
got memories of me, I'm out there Forensic scientists try to finger me out But I'm too quick for their Sheriff's stupid asses I'm still out there
Cent got money" and I got shot You so much pressure on me when you compare me to Pac I'm just a new kid, I can't help that I'm hot What little niggaz
' me, yeah nigga, I can tell you why these thugs ride Tell you why these thugs die and to the day of my demise I'm blowing, I'm blowing my la-la-la-la
And as the glock loads, I gotta teach hoes Reach hoes, make 'em feel a nigga when I'm mashin' Now I'm surpassin' any assassin Thug nigga till we die
is tall New York like Stoudemire You think your hot, well I'm on fire The money wash up and I'm tryna dry it If a new car drops, then I'm tryna buy it
scared, "Cent got money," and I got shot You put pressure on me when you compare me to 'Pac I'm just a new kid, I can't help that I'm hot What little
