is in the medicine sold. While they're working for a drug free world they're taking all the money from the working man. So the working man turns to drugs
in the medicine sold. While they're working for a drug free world they're taking all the money from the working man. So the working man turns to drugs
Traduzione: Fumo o fuoco. Cops and Drugs.
BEEEYATCH!! Hey!, and getten' paid You other mothafuckas callin', But me and my mothafuckin' thug niggas, We st8 ballin'!! St8 ballin'! Damned if I don't, and
comes to the phone book Jersey them niggas they think I'm crazy and creepy And as we speak they tryin to find me a therapist Rapid fire I clap and hire
feel me? I smoke a blunt and freak the funk until these jealous motherfuckers kill me I'm out the gutter, pick a hero I'm 165 and staying high til I
keys, Corner blocks on fire, Under covers dressed as feens, Makin so much money, Ride up smooth and fast, Put away the stash, And as I sold the last bag fucked around and
Jungle] Yo it's bugged, how everybody that rhyme is thug Either they sold drugs or rolled wit Bloods Smoke weed or blow slugs Yeah that's gangsta, but
said, when cops find you under the bed Head full of lead, got shit lock, so pardon the dred Got the cops feeling like royalty, the carpet was red [Mozart:] I smoke
at you chumps Catch me gettin' drunk, smokin' blunts with Buddha Monk I'm a marquee playa, spark the, haze up, and a, Garcia Vega Stop smokin', that'
Ac And who I sound like? C'mon dog my voice drown mics But nigga don't compare, stop talkin and come here You know where I be at, BX and nigga bring that
fully automatic then start spraying up shop like the crooked cops squeezing the trigger like Ice T It's magical, how the shiesty ones gradually metamorphosise Right before your eyes and
or foster its all the same Jim's the rider of riders JR's the writer of writers Juelz you know him well, hell he the fire of fire I'm the supplier, baffled
piece of tin I [*scratch*] shit off your chest and then grin And move on to the next motherfucker Cops ain't nuttin but the Klan undercover And they be
you and persecute with forty bust you You'll be superbly, with the court and the judge search me They don't love mercy; cops are racist and blood thirsty
