| I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep
|
| Ain't gonna breathe, til I see, what I wanna see
|
| And what I wanna see, is you go to sleep, in the dirt
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| Permanently, you just being hurt, this ain't gonna work
|
| For me, it just wouldn't be, sufficient enough
|
| Cuz we, are just gonna be, enemies
|
| As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us
|
| Coming to terms, where we can agree
|
| There ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speakin wit me
|
| You speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles
|
| So we gonna beef, and keep on beefin, unless
|
| You're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh
|
| And settle this face to face, and you're gonna see
|
| A demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen
|
| And you're gonna see, this gangster beat on himself
|
| I see you D-12, and thanks, but me need no help
|
| Me do this one all by my lonely, I don't need fifteen of my homies
|
| When I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only
|
| We never met, but best believe you gon know me
|
| When I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony
|
| Come on, bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me
|
| Lift me up, hold me, just like you told me
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| You was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful
|
| I'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!
|
| Now go to sleep bitch!
|
| Die, motherfucker, die! |
| Ugh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes
|
| Go to sleep, bitch! |
| (what?)
|
| Why are you still alive? |
| How many times I gotta say, close ya eyes?
|
| And go to sleep bitch! |
| (what?)
|
| Die motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye!
|
| Go to sleep bitch! |
| (what?)
|
| Why are you still alive? |
| Why, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah...
|
| ...Go to sleep bitch!
|
| We got you niggaz, nervous
|
| On purpose, to hurt your focus, you'se not MC's, you'se worthless
|
| You'se not them G's, you'se a circus, you'se no appeal, please
|
| You'se curtains, you use words, cool heard, slurred in two thousand third
|
| You'se purpin, you'se no threat, who's ya servin?
|
| When lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when
|
| You fuck with a label overseeing the Earth
|
| Shady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth
|
| And as I mold, I become a curse
|
| So we can put down the verse, take it to the turf
|
| Cock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who
|
| Depicts fiction in his verse
|
| And as I breathe, and you be deceased
|
| The world believe you deceived just to speak
|
| You'se not the streets, you'se the desk
|
| Use not your chest nigga, use a vest
|
| Before two's choose ya rest, you chose death
|
| Six feet deep, nigga, that's the depth
|
| Hey dog, I'ma walk like a beast, talk like the streets
|
| I'ma stay blazin New York wit the heat
|
| Stalk on the beat, walk wit my feet
|
| Understand my pain, the rain ain't sleet
|
| Peep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going
|
| Shit don't seep, then sleep not knowin
|
| But I'ma keep growing, getting larger than life
|
| Easy-going with the same one that started the fight
|
| He be knowing how dog get, when dog gon bite
|
| Tried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life
|
| Grand champ, and my Blood Line is tight
|
| Cuz it's all good, it's all right
|
| Niggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back
|
| Now they gots to swallow, everything in the sac
|
| Blood Line, and, we can go track for track
|
| Damn dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that?
|
| All you motherfuckers, take that!
|
| Here, take this too, bitch! |
| Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Waaaaaahoo
|
| We're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you
|
| Fake ass gangsters! |
| No more press! |
| No more press!
|
| Rot, motherfuckers, rot! |
| Decay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt!
|
| Die nameless, bitch, die nameless! |
| No more fame!
|
| Ahhhhhhhhhh! |
| Hahahaha
|
| Yo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha |