uckin' Yo, it's the island were Urban Knights dwell Few blocks from the number six train 'L' Can be a good stay in the hood way Or the fun can turn to guns and it
of not being a millionare, but if i had a million dollars i'd buy a damn brewery, and turn the planet into alchoholics, if i had a magic wand, i'd make
a little vodka, spark a L and hold a glock for The fronters, wannabe ill niggaz and spot runners Thinkin' it can't happen 'til i, trap em and clap them
it so That I'm so, oh, ice cold? Ay, ay, T Kizzie, R&B around I put ice on my mom and my sister too It's mister icey icey in the burgundy coupe I'd
a keep it real, don?t care how you feel I'm here to change the way you think not to make a mill Money only last so long like a played out song But when
the A T L We gon' take it to N C, to V A To L.A., to N.Y.and everywhere in between Uh, we gon' do it like this, Timbaland Magoo, check it out Mag meetcha
with your bro You can't make it to the show And niggas make it to the jail, shed a tear When you hear the song Will you cry? (It's fucked up, man) 'Cause
lip A dip in your hip, I'm snatchin' your shit I want it all so give me it Am I a Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a looney bitch More deadly than the venom that
session Know when I'm about to teach a lesson In love when micronesses starts remising Listen, raps of the hook as Elves run take it like a man kid it's our turn
flagrant and more fouler Keep it thorough, don't want that bullshit around us Moved away from drama but some how it found us It's a small thing, let
that Live with it,lick and hit it, don't stop, get it get it Don't trick it, bitch would you fuck with it? Brooklon and Queens, it's murda, yo it means
flagrant and more fouler Keep it thorough, don't want that bullshit around us Moved away from drama but some how it found us It's a small thing, let that
with the A L C and H A V N.Y.C. to L.A., we do our swing Everybody have a ball, everybody party Everywhere you turn it ain't nuttin but phatties and
I got my nut - I'm 'bout to get up and take a photo Wait a minute, hold up, baby, slow it down Touch your toes, toot your ass, now turn around And (? ),
my nigga got a gun to his back Squeeze three, turn him around, and he gave him a smack Take the joint off his waist and hit him with that Shit is for
like dro, I pull then clip it or mix it wit some moet then sip it Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album wit a snippet Run up on your
'im: "Four, good buddy, I made me a study An' I figger it's the dark a' the moon, son It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall An' the big hand'
Yeah, it is what it is Yah'mean, we untouchable baby I keep my song in my soul Blessed my heart and made it go Tops of our heads to tips of our toes