| Yo feel my flury
|
| Feel my fury
|
| Middle finger to the world
|
| Till I’m burried
|
| Heaven or hell
|
| Choose one or be a treat
|
| By seven I’m in a spell, bumpin' a beat
|
| Somethin' comes from deep within me
|
| Talkin' sickly, stictly, talkin' to me
|
| So possibly I could be goin' insane
|
| Snortin' this cane
|
| Stressed out like a muthafucka flowin' his pain
|
| Misunderstood by most
|
| Few people considered close
|
| It’s a very thin line between foes and folks
|
| Slide up fo’s and spokes, bangin' the curb
|
| Stumblin' out the driver side tamin' the Burg
|
| Mumblin' words, ready to reach
|
| Dawg I’m deadly wit heat
|
| Hold it steady I’ll be
|
| A fuckin' nut, patna what
|
| Run up and get touched
|
| Sent him on a journey stretched out on a gurney
|
| I’m turnin' more savage as the days go by
|
| Think I’m headed for the flames
|
| Dawg, I ain’t gon' lie
|
| It’s a cold world full a sin
|
| What the fuck, what the fuck
|
| What the fuck are you supposed to do
|
| They after you and they want yo soul
|
| But it ain’t nothin' you can do
|
| Wit that chrome 44
|
| All the love in the world couldn’t kill this rage
|
| And I simply love nothin' but this kill I blaze
|
| Let me take you on a journey (journey)
|
| Heaven to the depths of hell burning (heaven to the depths of hell)
|
| Westcoast to eastcoast where we makin' earnings (westcoast, eastcoast)
|
| America, we ain’t scared of ya we darin' ya (America) (darin' ya)
|
| Better be prepared when you hit the Bay Area (better be prepared) (Bay Area)
|
| Journey, heaven to the depths of hell burning (heaven to the depths of hell)
|
| Westcoast to eastcoast where we makin' earnings (westcoast, eastcoast)
|
| America, we ain’t scared of ya we darin' ya (America) (we darin' ya)
|
| Better be prepared when you hit the Bay Area (better be prepared) (Bay Area)
|
| That’s the point ya existance
|
| I could feel these haters in a distance
|
| Plottin', schemin', dreamin' that they can get wit this
|
| Witness through the eyes of a survivor
|
| From these battlefields in the streets
|
| I was born a fighter
|
| And unlike many others
|
| I’ve been through this shit
|
| I’ve held a homie’s hand
|
| Till he died and lost grip
|
| Homie rip, rest in peace
|
| Things we used to say but fuck that!
|
| That ain’t enough I’m gonna ride to my grave
|
| Think I’m gonna pay for the actions that you make
|
| I’m way beyond the point of wonder why I’ve been betrayed
|
| This goes to all my enemies
|
| Big or small, your up in the fault
|
| I got nothin' to loose
|
| I die or win it all
|
| Look my mind is like a brick wall
|
| Hard to penetrate
|
| This stuborn muthafucka that I am is ready to demonstrate
|
| You tend to fake
|
| Sucka you’ll be the first to go
|
| Cuz I’m a lay it down, right now
|
| Woodie let ya know
|
| (pause between each chorus) |