I don't care for anything I can't stand this anyway I'd live fast if it were fun Am I old enough to die young? I count one and I count two I hope to hell
I don't care for anything I can't stand this anyway I'd live fast if it were fun Am I old enough to die young? I count one and I count two I hope to
you really understand? One-syllable word, old man? You got a problem with my space? Get your look out of my face 'Coz I've had it with your lies You'
fuckin' with mines A nigga, God blessed with such an undeniable shine I hope you know there's nothin' fresher The manifester apply the pressure Tie you up and gag you in your mouth with
, your eye will get swoll up Suckers who flexed yo, their deaths got tolled up, holled up 'Cause I'm not the nigga to toy with boy with the big mouth
can't take us all Let's get along with the Mexicans And we can all have peace on the sets again Imagine that if it took place Keeping the smile off their
young boys respect your name Keep your heaters at close reach cocked and ready Cause the streets will catch you slipping, rock ya steady Watch your back with
front of me I'm focused on the future cos yesterday is history [Verse 1] A hard head makes a soft ass guess yo mom didnt teach ya that pick a spot to beef with
Trap nigga conversate with a harvard smart bitch I'm young rich and heartless, put you on a cartoon Cartoon jewlry customized by my artist 6 months locked, got a head
fucker I ain't got no time Young money like the lackers in their prime ( prime prime prime) Make money off a motherfucking rhyme ( rhyme rhyme rhyme) T-Raw in the bitch like with
get back in it, bitch I just go head first, you be on that timid shit Get head first, then I be on my Jimmy shit Shitting on bitches with that Chris Brown
a vein in their arm or their leg So, be you Italian, Jewish, Black or Mex I can make the most virile of men forget their sex So now, no, my man, you
He began to play at the Apollo in Harlem Good scene there, everybody raving One day, one night, came a Cadillac with four head lights Came a man with
like it ain't about the money, we got to handle the job No colors or rags, just guns and masks We not scared to blast and dip off fast With the Dungeon
to the thief When the king catch him stealin' Got his hands in the cookie jar Off with his hand, fuck it, off with his head Make him stand front and
how I stretch it Think they get the message Waters, Dutchies, lot of herb in a session So-called tough guys, herbs with aggression Put your thoughts all over the curb with
all loaded up, catch me wit the glock Pussy muthafuckers don't want no beef Trip niggaz down to their platinum teeth Chase you in the house with the
Most kingz get their heads cut off Keep on climbing 'till you reach the top Keep on coming if they ready or not Most kingz get their heads cut off
