good when I'm coming She got a ass that'll swallow up a g-string And up top, uh, two bee stings And I'm beasting off the riesling And my nigga just
and a bold fade Wall to wall greens to get the sport gray and palmade And soft breasts, as we got older we would star crush and bang fags Go to Marshals and
And pardon the French but let me speak Italian Black Stallion, dwellin' on Shaolin That means the island of Staten And niggaz carry gats and mad police
Now I'm caught up in the drug sting Niggas is callin' my horn, police is hittin' every corner we on Can't understand it, it's a thug thing And in the
my brainstorm I sting men that do the innocent wrong Your sentiments gone You imagining vain things Neglecting me, but I reign king Savagy and wankstas
night Flipping of the police when them tricks pass by I'm that fool next door, always late with his rent I'm that loser on the couch, watching Springer and
Grandma this one's for you (stay strong) (He's strong!) Mama Mama Mama Mama I couldn't say 'No' (So strong!) Got sick and tired of seein' brothers being
when I?m coming She got an ass that?ll swallow up her G-string And up top, uh, two bee stings And I?m beasting, off the re-sling And my nigga just made
me out I'll fuck your wife I had sex since I met her I'm to busy fuckin Your 12 year old baby-sitter And all women ain't shit Only good for cookin, cleanin, and suckin dick and
cut me out I'll fuck your wife, I had sex since I met her I'm to busy fuckin', your 12 year old baby sitter And all women ain't shit, only good for cookin' Cleanin', and suckin' dick and
hide, no time to choose Water cannon, run for your lives Teargas stings your eyes Shops with their windows in smithereens Burned out cars and burned out dreams And
. Arranged by Alan Lauber, and featuring backing vocals by The Halos. Single b/w "Mr. Moon, Mr. Cupid and I." Two decades later, British singer/songwriter Sting
But that's sum wild shit to do to a king And maybe some day i'll get used to the sting For now i'll been thinkin about you everyday And how we use to
I sting like a scorpion Pronounce him dead by four p.m. Call me los kevorkian Chorus (ayana m.): Some do it for the money and fame He just don't wanna
, The CHAMPION is defecating in the cup, and the gallery has scene enough! Not a moment too soon the police have arrived, and are advancing towards the
of Sterlings Suede fronts, bell bottoms and tri-colored Shearlings I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides Until I fall from Bed-Stuy Where money don't grown on trees and
and left behind. And no one wants see it, 'cause no one can believe this. The teenage revolutions planned assassination on christmas eve. And police and
