talk a little about my product She fucks with your pocket It causes you to have delusions [verse 1] I'm the pimp and now speak of my bitch She bought my
Death to my enemies, you're a crazy man Tired of the current sound, fuck these Hip-Hop fags No one's gonna stop me, I'll play as my shots Click-clack -
High and rising, like the chronicles of posdonus The old school hip-hop, is where I get my style from Uptown harlem, is where I get my lye from My cousin
breakz it down My music comes out of the sewerz of the black town (BoO!) Paint out of my pen, fillin' checkz I don't know if I deserve an "S" on my chest I gotta Rollz on my
a letter and I do amusement workout I'm aware of everything happenin' around [verse 2: Bigg Sound] After my first money The girls spoke: "Bigg, Bigg, Bigg
DJ puts there the sound of Bigga Yea! The Biggie Sound Gonna rock this town Yeah! [Woman voice & (Big Sound)] Yea! I like your style! Big Sound you like my
fine products As palm trees, and the dead sea) Don't pardon me, there's nothing rude Things conclude, things conclude! As i slurred that chorus, the ghosts got biggie Small sounds
that was giving oppurtunity Too make a difference in music but gave no oppurtunity Nothing new or fresh just the same ass sound Same ol' producers with the same ass sound
testimania.com/">Testi Canzoni</a> I hit the soft spot on the soft spot on my head It made me tired so i sung from my bed I'm ready to die
buildin yo) Brick City, yeah! Staten Island, yeah! Let's go (oh, yup! Let's go, yo) [Chorus: Redman] Yeah, I'm comin down yo' block And my sound's so
seen time I travel across the mean crime My rolls like a million dollar bills folded in green slime With my foes erased drink my henney straight no chasin Catch my
Now I could let these dream killers kill my self-esteem Or use my arrogance as the steam to power my dreams I use it as my gas, so they say that I'm gassed
dope producer in the industry I'm tired of producers bitin' on my beats Baby, thats cool, I ain't got no beef But you must pay me producers fee I am the
keep on stepping like boots and sandals My handle, is young Mac Dre Silky slim, is my A.K.A And you know that bay is my rompin' grounds I mean stompin
lacks take gats tap at the trigga D.M.C. you see I got a little bigga Jam Master Jay a with the zigga-zigga Produce, bamboost, let loose the sound No
