lace my shoes down at the corner i get her and we recluse gave me a million dreams stripped me of everything sick to my guts im your eternally her and me
your thumper on you my nig just in case we get into some funk? Naw remember they tided me down I put it back in the trunk Well I got mine on me homie,
Pacalypse Now's a real knucker I'm slick and quick to pick her upper After I fuck her then I duck her Young Gunz niggas got em frantic They just can't
shot from the contact In a 67' Caddy bumpin Gap Band eight track What you say nigga 11/5's in the house So let me break it down what us niggas all about
kill me (that's all you niggaz got?) witness my steel Spittin at adversaries envious and after me I'd rather die before they catchin me, watch me bleed Mama come rescue me
s no bullshitin I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her And I can see us after school, we'd BOMB
me but I can't comprehend the meaning now if ya wanna roll with me then here's ya chance doin 80 on tha freeway wait police, catch me if they can forgive me
bullshitin I know we grew apart, you probably don't remember I used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her And I can see us after school, we'd BOMB
mushed. Bitches lust. Man they love me when I lay in the cut. Fist the cup. The lady gave her eighty some paper cut. Now picture us. Its ridiculous you
push me Thinking they gonna put me in a position to pickle me Y'all tickle me pink I think I'd just rather have Pink tickle me Hickory dickory dock,
of the mountian, in the "O" straight clownin, talkin bout whats goin down an, these niggaz feelin me, soakin up the love I give, nigga all of us got kids
catch up with us [Chorus x2: Eightball] Bounce, Bounce Man get up on you feet and help me get it Crunk, Crunk Everybody up in here let me see ya Bounce
Never fail, KRS I'd rather have a hundred-thousand true heads by me Than one million of your fake fanatics behind me I keep it grimey, chase me, you will never find me
for you? Blast-for-me/blasphemy, it has to be Trust me, must be, glad to see us three If not bring the drama, won't catch us, sing the drama Bomb you
dead babies And old people, goin through rigamortis While the government tortoise, slow to support us Instead they record us and give us self-righteous orders Reporters implore us
for me to let me love Let me love you, girl Show me love Let me love you, girl Show me love Let me love you, girl Let me love Before I take you home
