Print

[talking:] Listen, I wouldn't give a fuck if I get Ross Perot rich You'll never catch me slipping, that's on the one nigga I keep shit tight cause I'm a solid nigga, you heard me Even when I'm smoking on some doe-doe, or sipping on some mo-mo I always keep the 4-4, what what [Magic:] You fucking with niggaz, that's bout chilling You fucking with niggaz, that's bout killing and digging a lot of holes You playing with grown men, that'll beat you to mush No matter the money or power, you could be touched Ashes to ashes, nigga dust to dust You shorten your own life, when you fuck with us See I was nurtured, by the bosom of the block That told me in a heated situation, grab the glock and pop Unil it stops and never turn back, you understand Soon as you feel remorse, them niggaz got the upper hand You'll never, catch this nigga slipping My periferal vision, one big up on your on intentions so [Hook: x2] So even when you catch me, smoking on the doe-doe Or sipping, on a taste of mo-mo I never leave the crib, without the fo'-fo' that's a no-no Somebody leaving with a bo-bo, up in they go-go Letras de canciones [Magic:] Repetitive niggaz I go against, they don't have a chance They won't survive, they'll tell you I'm a hell of a man I devour the weak, and dissesemble the strong So called rappers, with song after song When will the world understand, that I can't be stopped It won't be as easy, as it was with Pac I'm smarter now, took a situation and learned Can't trust a nigga, cause niggaz'll get you burned Watch paparazzi, a lot of stories'll turn Trying to get you killed, behind the same money you earn Shot my dog, scared of the power that he possessed But it ain't over nigga, guess who's next [Hook x2] [Magic:] Give me a reason, I'll open fire like it's kill-a-nigga season You heathens, don't deserve breathing I suck the life out of your body, with every word that I speak And when I'm finished, I'm hoping that that you deceased I keep my enemies close, watch they moves I ain't no fool Just because, I dropped out of school It's called common sense, and street smarts Too much heart'll get you tossed in the park, nigga lost in the dark I live the laws of my land, where it's kill or be killed So don't question, if this pistol in my hand is real Don't question if the stories, that you heard are real Just understand nigga, this is how I was born for real [Hook x3] From Letras Mania