Testi:
Juice Run 4 Ya Life

mind I know if he got it he comin' out there slangin' iron I got some niggas with choppers M-11 glocks ya hear me I'm tellin' ya if thats what cha get

block gettin money nigga I want in Run it in Before I run in Your spot 200 glocks and 100 men Droppin' More shells than run and 'em [Scarface] Actin

the grave Twelve midnight, my niggas on the stroll, Mr. Doc, Baby Reg, Brotha Lynch, Big Dan We bout' to roll ridin deep hella high so nigga peep this, Take ya

last on tracks, yo, I rock slow [Chorus x4: Juice (Buddha Monk)] Understand black, when the gun goes clack clack I aim where ya hat's at, nigga, you

lemon custard, don't trust ya Nigga shoulda been rushed off the stage Feelin nutty then bust a gauge Cut like spades, blowin back out like hand grenades Ya

it was a mistake" To call you a bitch, not a bandit at ya wake Epitaph reading how much damage you could take While I'm on the boat with ya bitch, salmon

Gettin' gerped is a way of life for me Brown bag wid a forty straight to the party see Always on the run but I did mix So don't trip when ya see Vic hop

pull the wrong move And soon lose ya like Lucifer In the middle make a fool of ya Ruin ya nigga choose and get abused ya crushed Huh? Where ya nuts son

blast ya if he hasta Tell em Sen (I'm the Psycobeta master!) Strikin ya (hittin ya) buckin ya (fuckin ya) Like my buddha plant boy, I'm gonna keep PLUCKIN ya Pickin ya