don't think ya'll ready for this one Queen Bee knock out collabo' If ya don't know, now ya know Workin' all day and now it's on Pull up and don't pay
We keep it real] Yeah, check it out y'all (put down the, put down the gun son) [Put your guns down, throw your hands up] It's on like that y'all
didn't cut it, I started to protest, but Dad said Homer: Shut it. Get up. Mow the lawn. Move it. On the double. 'Cause if you don't, you're in deep,
making all these bitches niggas hear their final tick but that don't mean my minds sick just cause I'm motivated by a lot of cheese when trees by the
, You scum of the earth, you good for nothing? Are you listening? Oh, don't go, don't go, please, don't go, I didn't mean it, I'm just in pain. I
Making all these bitches niggas hear their final tick But that don't mean my minds sick Just cause I'm motivated by a lot of cheese When trees by the
Xena join my vision - don't deny your destiny All Warriors: You and me love war Doesn't matter what it's for Warrior #6: Chop the tree down, burn the
body, always gon get in your bidness Try to break it up, try to get involved in it But they really, need to mind they own bidness Money don't do nothing
Cuz I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your
fuckin' claim Its Dipset, capital don of the bird gang [Verse 2: Fabolous] What it look like, all I say it most Shooters waitin' on the word, just say it
done it At the summit of rap and I'm watchin' you haters plummit Run to it or run from it, to bun it don't give it Wipe the streets wit ya like you a
ALL! Choppin holes in ALL THE WALLS, that's ALL THEY SAW! [The Game] Hip-Hop ain't dead, it just took a couple shots I bring it back to life, give it
done done it At the summit of rap and I'm watchin' you haters plummit Run to it or run from it, to bun it don't give it Wipe the streets wit ya like you
, because a day is gonna come, don't know when but it will come, and we'll finally know the way out of here. And I'll throw away this wrinkled map, my
't admit when they've made a mistake while poison ink spews from a speechwriter's pen, he knows he don't have to say it so it don't bother him. Honesty
a few lines, and I show it for her to see Well she takes a napkin and throws it back And says "that don't look a thing like me!" I said, "Oh, kind
to the west It just don't stop So to all my real g's, throw them up high To all the ballers that have the corks of Crystal, let it fly That's how we live
the scene Messier than canvas's by Jackson Pollock Throwing multicolored thoughts at a rapid pace I make a mess you dissect it and make sense of it Then