s on car in the city where the kill If u got a problem, say it to my face We could knuckle up any time any place If u got a problem, say it to my face
my serve swerved, may leave 'em 1st 3rd Stop lyin' lie for what Steer a whip, drive it up, steer a brick, pie it up, supply the stuff, fly as fuck Said
up with the death I was sellin' And for the past three months yo I can still hear my victims yellin' But I can't listen to my conscience it's nonsense
run to Cry wit, hit the mall, buy shit, hate you Thinkin' ima do it You gonna really make me hate you Prove sumthin, go out there and get it Bring it
scene reppin' it down reppin' for his ward, We hit the light and started bangin'killed the hoe, Just for two mills, One they killed, yo I think it was
records is whack I'm from Q, for Quiet Killers an' you know I deliver The double N, enough ammo for every nigga S, that spell Queens, stupid ass, run it
off on a tantrum Now you know For the backpackers, for the computer hackers For the misplaced famous, for all the video gamers For the deranged krylon stain makers For
(Layzie Bone) It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war,
the bump bump, baby let's get crunk I run up in your spot, and fuck it up, you know And you know it's how I feel, baby it's really real Don't try to
for the hearse The crash street kids are comin? to get ya (Better run, better run, better run) The crash street kids are comin? to get ya (Just for fun, just for
run to corrode integrity whatever matters and it would they fail to see they make believe reality helpless deaths ignored to be judged as juvenile head
it is, homie, like it or not It ain't a crime if you don't get caught It ain't a sale if it don't get bought It ain't a show if I don't get paid She
ain't fill ins, they fiends Plus they rat, and it's too hot to chill in the sun My pops 39 years old, and still on the run [Chorus] [Juvenile] Wodie
Knockin' it off your shoulder soldiers, them real niggas Niggas who did time hard to kill niggas How you live you get it is the way a nigga play it
get weared out from this one It's like they said, boy In tha year 2000, it's all about Wayne It's your chrome, man, run that thang 17th ward to tha 3rd
, calicole sparklin' A guerrilla till I die, bless me when I'm dead But for the bread I bring ya anybody head That's how I play it, I don't hold back