| Yo, All the fans we love yall
|
| We gon make one fo the haters like fuck that
|
| (Ali)
|
| Old School 9−8 and you see the Camilion
|
| Below in the celing wood with wheel on
|
| With a flyin bitch some old gangsta shit
|
| Flat screen dvds smoking stank and shit
|
| Ain’t dat shit Sunday bull tank and shit
|
| Top down air forces white tank and shit
|
| Ain’t nothing soft on boy stop thankin it
|
| I got a trophy at the playa ball banquet
|
| This bank I get
|
| Style we all that to the back we all that to the back
|
| Red or blue new wall cap
|
| Pause that bull shit you talking bout
|
| Before the people start walkin out
|
| If you please we succeed regardless
|
| Shine the hardest and I’ll sign an artist
|
| Longevity like the BeeGee’s
|
| Please be awarre we don’t carre
|
| Do you like us?
|
| No, no, I know y’all ain’t say no uh oh
|
| Be back in a minute wit dat chrome 4−4
|
| And when I get back everybody gone hit the flo flo
|
| Cause I just asked him was the Tics tight and I think he just said
|
| No, no, I know y’all ain’t say no uh oh
|
| Be back in a minute wit dat chrome 4−4
|
| And when I get back everybody gone hit the flo flo
|
| Cause I just asked him was the Tics tight and I think he just said no
|
| (Murphy Lee)
|
| 1993 creation for steps of born leezys
|
| Wrote rhymes in class, bored by teachers
|
| Church only on easter, ignore the preacher
|
| Do the grown up at school right unda the bleachers
|
| A wild little bity doin lunatic rules
|
| To this day they be like «Lunatic Rules»
|
| I’m hangin wit the dudes that done it, don’t even stunt it
|
| You cats stay in the back doin too much frontin
|
| See you hatas like to take risk sonofabitch
|
| I really disc jockeys at home jockin my disc
|
| I’m gon pretend yall ain’t heard that shit
|
| School boy 5'9 receive the hairlines and halfway rich
|
| I’m gon run niggas out of town
|
| Naw fuck yall hatas I’m gon chill til they run out of crown
|
| Royal, Blue Jack right at the door
|
| Ay yo I’m Murphy Lee can I park my car here?
|
| (Kyjuan)
|
| Swervin excursion limited fo 12's
|
| Fo amps don’t know what my limit is
|
| Ive been packin 22's like Emmitt did
|
| I’ve been po before +No+ what a +Limit+ is
|
| New engine new paint ain’t them d’s spinnin
|
| Love rims, love Lakers, who I love winnin, love women
|
| Spinnin grindin since the beggin no mo limits
|
| Drom tops cuttys on 4's
|
| No love fo hoes
|
| Change them like clothes
|
| Hit em like switches then I pass them on
|
| We all know dats how the game should go
|
| We all know most of us love the same hoes
|
| Like Carla the preachers daughter fucked wit the barber
|
| Over there on the utha side of College Encarta
|
| For starters I know both yall smash
|
| I didn’t get no ass so I had to ask
|
| She said…
|
| (Nelly)
|
| I’m feelin frost bit oh shit is he in town?
|
| Check the paper weather say temperature goin down
|
| Yep that’s him he come to make his rounds
|
| Tell him how it feel ten mill skin found
|
| Beta not continue I can show you how
|
| Frank Mill aww he done flood it wit rounds
|
| Don’t know what to call me I can think of some nouns
|
| Mr. Hoe Hopper, Trick Knocker, Free City
|
| My g’s getting depp like P. Diddy
|
| I’m feelin like B round looking for my Whitney
|
| Heel I’d take a Cidney if the stash is right
|
| Cocked fo legged and her pants is tight
|
| It ain’t got to be fo eva it can be fo tonight
|
| First class flight to Nellyville
|
| So how it feel doin sit ups on the virgin rug
|
| Drinkin criss out a mug, Part boughee, Part Thug, call me Bug Ok?
|
| Uh Oh
|
| North side one time let me herre ya… Uh Oh
|
| South side one time let me herre ya… Uh Oh
|
| East side on time let me herre ya… Uh Oh
|
| West side on time let me herre ya… Uh Oh
|
| That’s why man yo breath smell like shit
|
| If yo momma breath smelled like that nigga
|
| She libel to kill some motherfucker
|
| Man if yo momma’s eyebrows look the way yo’s do
|
| It look like a caterpillar layin on her fo’head
|
| Nigga yo momma snort anthrax and she still mobbin |