Niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit My clips bananas, I kill
would we say They'll be killing us all in the wild Taking our homes, killing wives and children Leaving us nothing at all And I'll write them a letter
He turned into Lincoln Park Found an empty place and opened the case Two severed human legs that belonged to a young man With dark skin, shiny black
I realised their special connection, that I just didn't fit in to my father's plans. And as I grew older the constant comparison between my brother and myself left
their special connection, that I just didn't fit in to my father's plans. And as I grew older the constant comparison between my brother and myself left
the end Listen, Kill 'em with the spit and put my boys in position So none of my niggas got to pitch on the street It's Young Freezer the bar spitter
He turned into Lincoln Park, found an empty place and opened the case. Two severed human legs that belonged to a young man with dark skin. Shiny black
, it won't be the same. My life, you've always been there. Now you're gone and my heads spinning. Left the childhood, left the memories, left the good
drop my last 16, so sick teens will stop write! A vicious comeback, never ever left, but it had a rest Now they want to arrest, cus we kill and molest
nothing 'Cause your ??? Drinking Buying crack Go for drugs again And it make you want to go and bust your gat again But if you got a problem grab a pen Write
'm the type of soldier, A ni**a that seen Everything in my muthaf**kin eyes I seen my parents get killed To my muthaf**kin eyes I seen my brother kill
few dope fiends, young nigga horny Hot nuts, you know how it go [50/50 Twin] On my block, you can find my cap turned backwards Chilling with some killas
through the chest through the head, through the gut it shows The future for us young shooters and old killers Who become rich as dope dealers? Nothing left
What uuup!? This past year was a rough ride, joking aside A lot of niggas left to do bids, and most done died My neighborhood is like a ghost town Would
about Left lane, yung boss Get ya money we bout to turn the lights out We about to take it straight to the white house Cook crack clean it up then I write
pray, but I get on my bed Lay on my back and meditate, anyway, in the ceilings, the four walls, it's Like cell therapy I got nothing to do but write