my A-K work with the clappers Listen, anybody trynna rob me for jewels You must've seen that third story shit, you got me confused Go 'head, dukes keep
with the ultimate toughman competion "Let the games begin!" Set it off, it's the fight of the century KRS and Professor X would battle each other mentally With
give me some of what he's drooping off Soon as he wake up choking like it was whooping cough The group been soft First hour at the open bar and their trooping off
got my niggaz to my right I bust a couple of verses then jump in the crowd and get with the fight I hit a nigga off in the head with a chair The reason
Time to get with ya What ya think nigga Time to get with ya What ya think nigga I already done told ya niggaz Shit I showed y'all niggaz When I slaughtered
food And penetrate you rectum with their members they'll intrude Something you'll never forget You said you've never swallowed ever before Now endeavor you'll forever give better head
ship is lost, And what are we left with Now we are grown Up? MARY DEE Time to be thinking of real life feelings. I must get on. SHANTY Time to be buying
you that nigga. [Styles:] It feel good in here [Havoc:] Yeah! [Verse 1:] Second time around I'ma let the magic shoot This time it's off the Havoc flute
what you can; leave what you must Because y'all comin with us, (motherfucker you comin with us) Fill your bags with the rags that you wear and their necessities Along with
arches My pedestal was too tall to climb off In fact that's the reason for the high horse And from up here I see marines and hummers on a conquest Underdogs with
people rushing round with no time to spare. I'm so dizzy I'm neither here nor there, in this traffic jam I just want to shout let me off o'this english
I wancha dope, jewelry, and all your fuckin cash foo got brave and went for a sawed off so I shot em all, took their mothafuckin heads off I'm TRU (No
:] Why you that nigga. [Styles:] It feel good in here [Havoc:] Yeah! [Verse 1:] Second time around I'ma let the magic shoot This time it's off the
the sidelines, write rhymes in your spare time My attempts to redefine your hip-hop guideline You can play the sideline, write rhymes in your spare time
a man at the liquor store beggin' for your change The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange He asks a man for what he could spare, with
ride by with the boomin' systems Cars ride by with the boomin' systems Cars ride by with the boomin' systems Cars ride by with the boomin' systems Girlies wanna ride with