(ha ha ha)cut the music up please(ha ha ha)
Yea
I play the bullshit from the backseat,champ
yea im in the backseat,still got the seat back
feet back, stay from where the fake be at
niggaz snitch for the shine, where the patience at?
nigga make his own brother face his back
give love then take it back
(good grief)man this world is quite heavy on my aching back
cops killin for crack, you know the story snakes eat rats
face the facts, you cant change em
cant shoot it if you cant aim it
cant miss him, if he kill you then you cant blame him
thats just how the dice roll when you cant fade em
get too deep up in that water and they cant save ya
me,i come out of that water like i was just bathing,and watch my step on the wet pavement
yea
im from the hood so i rep them where i cant take them
"hollygrove,hollygrove" was his last statement
so nigga get that look off ya face
and recognize you got a crook in the place
they call me w,e,e crooked letter,y
im so high, i skeet skeet in any nigga dime like she's mine
street sweeper in the back of the hatch make me pop the latch,
leave you bloody with the cops to match
bullets holes in ya speakers from the chopper blast like....
(ha) thats bullet holes in yo sneakers got you hopin back
it all stop when they hit you in yo top and back
no cockin back
silly muthaf**ka you aint heard bout this

the clips hang down to the dick
thats a automatic shotty from a drum they call tommy guaranteed to get you bitches from by me
when i hit every piece of ya physical body
he leakin, mortamor is no longer leapin he sleepin
while you pussy niggas is sleepin im thinkin, 
deep in thought the boy aint even winkin.
bob marley got me stinkin,stackin figures
im standin firm, lifes a slinky
pipes is filled with crack cocaine 
and the dope go inside of the veins
from where i came
though i bare a name only one can live with
"coach, they wont knock me off my pivot. Forget it!"
im sicker wit it
pick a city
buy a condo
find a fine ho
let some time go (chill)
what you know about a bongo havin a mango over a convo about dough? nothin
man the four wheelers look so good on the sand
yea, tank top pocket fan
no pocket knife, no handgun in sight
just the rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat, boo!
tonight i might, just boost my feature price
'cause to each his own, and the lights is bright
and im feelin like mike at a tyson fight
im from cita house, big moma's house
she told me to shoot ya right after i knock you out
and he aint gettin up after them shots if you hit in the right spots
hold up the beat might drop