West Coast Connection Forum
Elements => Tha Studio => Topic started by: ˇSiNiStErˇ on August 21, 2004, 03:21:51 PM
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My lyrics postpone misery, just peep my post history..
All my battles renamed "vote for this bitch, or me"..
Ive made an impact on rap, just check the numbers.
Awoke the board from the recent hip hop slumber..
Lyrics permit through ya mind, sent from an icon..
To constrict ya whole fuckin body just like a python..
Via nice charm or simply the product of my temper..
I began as an apprentice, completed as a mentor..
Like Edison, peep my invention, your head'll spin..
My lines so sick im in dire need of some medicine..
Like morphine, someone, wipe the corpse clean..
Ima professional, been spillin blood since fourteen..
Came of age, was raised to start sealin the bid..
I got a better death resumé than billy the kid..
But I would rather stay humble, im not a boaster..
My gun does all the talkin once its out of tha holster..
Write all my own shit, never came close to a biter..
So follow my lead and drop a flow for the cypher..
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trigg burn figga eights in a drop while
bustin multiple shots at multiple cops
hit multiple blocks with heat that swell multiple knots
hit tha water wit multiple yachts jetskis and multiple rocks on my wrist watch
stunt daddy turf skatin in a EXT caddy
so nasty when i pull up flashy
at the club hair wild and still nappy
im clap happy addicted like a crack addy
smoke wet fattys
sixty fo' impalas sittin on spin daddys
moon walk on my davins
collapse ya lungs
and clean ya attic
trigga too tragic wit automatic
neva miss with a red dot on ya shit thru the windsheild of ya caddy
dip wit the villan
imma turf block boss
i'll merc yall off
imma put in work
send hot feet thru ya g-unit shirt
mock me an i leave em where it hurts
im the first ta burst wit beef on my turf
im the worst with des eagle
leave horse heads wit ya peoples
have ya fam at the steeple
sag my pants leave waist room for a weapon thas lethal
clap my straps wit no haste and bang eight at u weasels
rearrange ya face and put heat thru ya cerebral
have u face up in a box at tha cathedral
trigga nigga you a v-6 and you fuckin wit a diesel
lean back like joe fat ah get folded like an easel
spit fire like zippos stay tweezin heat big as rhinos and hippos
bend tha block in a candy paint and shred ya rentals
break bread wit a boss ship weight an flip botany off
smoke chronic an cough
im like a modern holliday doc double llama huckleberry is scary
leave it hotter put em in ya medulla oblongata always spit lava
trigga nomma skate mustard and mayo bumpin E40 and jayo
put tha DA on my payroll im a hogg boss cross and its fatal
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