Jerome's niece, on her way home from Jones beach, it's bugged Plus little Rob is selling drugs all the time Hangin' out with young thugs that all carry 9's And
The churches full and the kids all gone to hell Six traffic lights and seven cops and all the streets kept clean The supermarket and the drug store and
fire Reality rap, nigga check my salary cap I give guns to my soldiers with a battery pack What you know about light planes and heavy coke And them drugs
out and git somethin' How will you make it if you never even try You need to git up, git out and git somethin' 'Cuz you and I got to do for you and I
fuck my BEEEYATCHHey!, and getten' paid You other mothafuckas callin' But me and my mothafuckin' thug niggas We str8 ballin' Str8 ballin' Damned if I don't, and
it comes to the phone book Jersey them niggas they think I'm crazy and creepy And as we speak they tryin to find me a therapist Rapid fire I clap and
immortal when it comes to the phone book Jersey them niggas they think I'm crazy and creepy And as we speak they tryin to find me a therapist Rapid fire I clap and
9 times outta 10, he'll tell his friends and they'll be right back Whole bunch a niggaz, and just one fiend They come to me for less cut, cause I boast bigger cream And
out and git somethin How will you make it if you never even try You need to git up, git out and git somethin Cuz you and I got to do for you and I [Cee
nuclear holocaust over breakfast on the terrace. Hash browns and peril. Old ironsides or good ship lolli-popper, Davy Jones still got a locker, ak, the opera's more than docs and
Yo it's bugged, how everybody that rhyme is thug Either they sold drugs or rolled wit Bloods Smoke weed or blow slugs Yeah that's gangsta, but when I
it be goin down around my way V.L., UPT, The ward? 13th I represent no matter what, respect or check me Let me live through round 1, and it's all on
nine is loaded And i also got clipz warm'd and ready to get blowned You see i dont complicate nothing,nah you just have to listen When i or he or B&W bloodz or
Jackson, Mississippi got my back like that's my livin' state Saint Louis and Mobile, they clock steel and pop pills Savannah, Georgia and they K kill can forget about J-ville A-town and
contact me, and get wit me And still end up bein mad 'cause I charge 50 And as for you suckaz, you can keep those rapz And screw yo awardz, my son
duck hunt and double dribble When niggas sold quarters and dimes and smoked nickels My cars got big TV's and satellites I got a wheel of fortune 'cause I flipped O's like Vanna White And
you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin' something word to mother, i heard him fronting and he be pumping on your block your man gave him your glock and