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Featuring Rakaa & Evidence Yo all I’m sayin’ is I would’ve headbut that bitch too That bitch Evelyn, I’m talking mouth from uh Nah nigga, the basketball wife’s bitch I don’t watch that shit man, come on Nigga she made Chad lose all his shit I shake a bitch, but a bitch like that.. I kick that bitch and I’m through I’ve seen you shake a bitch Yo all I’m sayin’ is.. I’m not wrapping my brain with it, I’m done fucking with it Yo listen to me who is this nigga man? Man yo Hare Krishna, fuck off nigga Just came up on these Ritz Crackers Let’s go to the food court nigga I’m hungry – here, take a cracker bro I’ll fuck a cracker nigga I don’t want no fuckin’ cracker I need some chitlins nigga I stole these from a baby Yo the fuck going on man? We’re gonna be here until probably 7 tomorrow morning bro You know, right? Let’s go over to the bar and get a drink nigga We’re stuck here for like 24h dog Letras de cancionesWhat the fuck are we gonna do? Now listen to part 1-06 Alright well I’m hungry, let’s go get something to eat bro Where hiphop dies Fuck you very much Oh shit yo I ain’t heard this shit in a minute This the shit like the Dilated Pimpin We make good on bomb threats Bandanas wrapped around our face and neck Ditted in camouflage like a Vietnam vet From the Lakers to the Pistons, rockers on deck Lions Tigers Dodgers, and Angels the best swings Buffalo ain’t the only place known for red wings We brall over the ice and even the ref swings I ain’t just talkin’ hockey, LA is just kings I make gants with Cali kush and twist I spit crack, pick out how I cook the fits What side, what block, what hood you with It’s Cal Troy, I just gotta push the mix You no dilated, we blaze rules of plenty heat Expansion sound, we make moves that many eat J Deala forever, that’s true for any beat Like the tat on hex murda’s arm proof infinity I pay tax, better act like you know me LA still shootin back at Axel phony I ain’t victimating it Mrs. Beverly Hills Black milk and bishop, that’s the homie Dilated and my dog diverse What a perfect word, watch out, here go the evidence This ain’t perfect world, we still getting it And I’m still keeping it church and ain’t weaponless Underground with a platinum resume The best to not blow, the world ain’t heard of me yet Some call in advance, I never call them back But he’s a legend like Nino and new Jack Word to Motor City My co-workers gonna co-sign with me til we takin’ the globe The world is mine, arms on the top of my tup Built in the floor chip, got it natural From Letras Mania