Yessir, Red and Meth in the muthafucking building, nigga Yeah... yeah... ya'll already know the muthafucking business, nigga Agh, let's go, yo check it


Yo, you can, find me up inside a whore Making her legs go up like Ferrari doors Gilla House get 'Chips A'Hoy', don't sniff the boy But I'm naughty like Tommy Boy Go back like Atari cords, still here, shit Superman ended up in a wheelchair I'm fresh like Bel-Air, I paid my dues And you trying to be cool up in Sunday school Can't move when I flow, bet a nigga gonna copy Take it home, study it, then he gon' profit In the rap game, every nigga gonna gossip Even Herbie Hancock know Red rock it Yo, Red, stop it, time is up Only nigga that's fly on the rhyme is us Cause, no one can stop me Da-da-na, da-da-na, like Rocky


Aiyo, this how it sound when them boys underground Nigga, check our style, we some {Dangerous M.C.'s} (Game over, forget 'em, forget 'em, forgot 'em) (Game over, forget 'em, forget 'em, forget 'em) {Dangerous MC's}
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com


Yo, back when chef mami used to sell plates, we used to sell base I learned to wipe my nose and wipe the prints off the shell case Don't want no jail case, freedom miles standing at hell's gate It's hot, and the devil's my cell mate The game's addictive, I can't stop, it's like I'm chasing that first high Like Betty Crocker baking that first pie The beef we serving is stir fried, swerving all through your urban Hurting, every gate and corner, you working, I'm The bottom line, the school of hard knocks turn into Columbine And my set is throwing up dollar signs Some get gwop, some get pop, me? I got a ziplock of bubble gum, just for selling Chris Rock Nobody move, nobody shot, Meth, I'm in the body shop Where you rummy, rolling your body drops I'm trynna stand on my own two, get signed to a major Be a franchise player and get my own shoe

add to
My Songs
Email
Print