that no one can name, who's to blame, who's to blame? chorus: well, don't you blink when I shake hands with you you don't know what these damn hands
my double dee commity pimp your shoes pimp your juice pimp your hair make everyone stair pretty damn eyes pretty damn rides girl got them tighs your pretty damn
handcuffs And you can imagine my surprise, When his girl came down the stairs with tears in her eyes And a phone in her hand, holdin' her man Damn that
(C-Murder) Listen up motherfuckers I got a story to tell All you niggas out there holding hands with these motherfuckers street Them motherfuckers behind
was making snaps As I precede to make my riches Just like the neighborhood kingpin, pimp, and all these bitches Task force trying to roll deep But I'm playing these
me, Dr. Slumber, how can it be? That this dream somehow became reality? I can't go to sleep, cause I'm so damn scared Cause I keep havin these crazy nightmares
with the feeding I said, oh God damn it you're so mean You say I'll lose the Christian crowd if I say things like these But I've already lost them, I
then I'll fry for em And if I got ta take the stand, I'ma lie for em (lie for em) It's me and you, hand in hand (hand in hand) I'm married to The Firm
off somewhere Me and you alone doing things we probably not supposed to, I wanna make it close to ... you. And then grab the both of your hands, put
you run to scream or shout Cause I hold the key to unlock this madhouse! So many dimensions and lines except for these levels of dips and devil Aint
I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand, Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man? These sensations barely
From questions learned from lessons daily Evil tries to persuade me into contemplation if I'm crazy Probably not, but who gives a damn if I shot I
up the stairs Please let the gate be open, and I'm up and outta here As I approach the gate the cop still on the chase God damn it's locked, aiyyo I
acts may be attempting a hostile takeover of the building [Blade] Synchronise watches, memorise the plans The blueprints and wear gloves on your hands
on my head and a mic in my hand A swallow of the night air that blankets the land My right hand man Nick Fury on the right mic.. stand, damn! It's a done
and ain't like none of them yours Y'all niggas lucked up and made it through these doors, shut the fuck up [Chorus:] Shut the fuck up (Hot damn) (Goin
Happy as a king with Reilly's daughter (Chorus) Soon a foot steps up the stairs Who should it be, but Reilly out for slaughter With two pistols in his hand