| I’ll do, anything
|
| All y’all old school Studio 54ers
|
| That’s, my, word!
|
| There’s nothing in the world that I won’t do
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| I’ll give my world to you, if you want me to
|
| I’ll do, anything
|
| That’s, my, word!
|
| O.D.'n on this one fleein, all eyes seein
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| Dominant supreme being, face the mental
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| Deep concentration break the point on a pencil
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| Keep my cliches out your dental, capiche?
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| Shit that I been through is cause for parental
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| Discretions no question my Westside Connections
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| L.A. Confidential, world don’t stop
|
| 'less it’s mental, Staten residentials, you wit it?
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| Wu-Tang, Forever and a day, 'til I’m old and decayed
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| I’m commited; |
| look ma, we did it
|
| Top of the the world, tell it to my firstborn
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| And my baby girl, did it my way, take the low ride
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| On the highway, out the sunroof, yellin
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| «Thank God it’s Friday!» |
| Show a nigga love
|
| If he got my sound pull the plug, he’s not underground
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| Call him mud, when I flood the airwaves
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| Household and stairways (rainy days)
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| Waiting for these paydays, think not of the ends
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| If I got twenty, my brother get ten
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| Now let the madness begin motherfuckers!
|
| There’s nothing in the world that I won’t do
|
| I’ll give my world to you, if you want me to
|
| I’ll do, anything. |
| anything. |
| anything. |
| anything.
|
| There’s nothing in the world that I won’t do
|
| I’ll give my world to you, if you want me to
|
| I’ll do, anything.
|
| Yo, yo, yo!
|
| We got love for those with love for us
|
| Baby you can look but don’t touch, I’m fried off the dust
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| And plus, the only thing I trust is a fund
|
| Ain’t no fun, just paranoid niggas totin guns
|
| In apparel, keep us camouflaged in the shadows
|
| That’s where I bring this tale that you never get to tattle
|
| Obliterate the tri-state, and the crime rate
|
| Tell them swine niggas fly straight, you can call it fate
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| And if it ain’t mine, call it fake, bottom line
|
| End the case, spoonfeed the track just a taste
|
| Of the side dish, soup of the day, I come Wright like N’Bushe
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| For them Dead Presidents
|
| Fuck what you say, and he say, and she say, and they say
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| Vacate the premises, caught up in the melee
|
| Sentence this song, to twenty-five years hard labor
|
| In the system, where it takes the form of my wisdom
|
| Respect mine, take my time and protect nine
|
| Next on the frontline, Mr. Meth
|
| No more no less, what you see is what your ass get
|
| Set it off I suggest
|
| There’s nothing in the world that I won’t do
|
| I’ll give my world to you, if you want me to
|
| I’ll do, anything. |
| anything. |
| anything. |
| anything.
|
| There’s nothing in the world that I won’t do
|
| I’ll give my world to you, if you want me to
|
| I’ll do, anything. |
| anything. |
| anything.
|
| Not a problem that I can’t fix
|
| Cause I can do it, in the mix
|
| Not a problem that I can’t fix
|
| Cause I can do it, in the mix |