, how I do it round here And I'm out eight in a morn', dawg Glock two around here What chu move around here, and you know I keep my tool around here My
off, this nigga's walkin' soft It's the smoothness that make niggas move to this For you ruffnecks, I'll check you with my tool and shit Don't sweat '
s so cold and I'm so cool Let a *** try, I'mma act a damn fool Got that welfare, we call it old school Then we mix it all up, call it pro tools Serve
yourself Tools of your trade, survival It's the only safe place left anymore But can you tell me, are you here now? Is my touch touching you, or that tool
to have your love To shake one two is what you wanna do As sweat as your necklace so weak that you need it Don't start act fool I'm not a tool You wanna
break my rusty cage, my rusty cage Watch the way I freak it when I bust my gauge ?Cause all that loud gun talk, it don?t mean squat If my tool gets
to get together Some will be and some will hear Some will be and some will hear Some will be and some will hear Black Magic Bring the M-16's the tools
, I like it sleazy. Oh let's get nasty baby. I like it sleazy. I'll take you for a bad ride. I like it sleazy. I got the tools to make you shout
when I serve soda it would be cold as fuck Chillin' in my sock, servin' ice for ten bucks And you'd be in the house, all warm and shit And ya ass got the sweater
are empty and the landlords here You spent your money on piss warm beer To be someone and make the rules To hold the cards and throw down your tools
destroy it's the vein, they're the same, lost religion, relive the past government's tool to keep you a passivist yeah right, like the governments cover
me Yo up in the game on 4 in the morning And it's storming and we blitzed Just rocked another wig yeah we on it God had blood on his sweat pants The
Nailing the dismembered member to the table, Hammer gleaming in my sweat soaked palm, First excruciating blow to the scrotum is struck, Hammering my genitals
ready to blast with a swing of my axe, i quickly crack the coffin lid open wide the stench of fresh death from a decomposing wench awaits me inside i sweat
and then I had friend So now I'm snatching pocket books with Sean Wilkinson ?Get that money, lil' nigga' that's what they told me I never sweated props
soon enough Cold as the clay, dark as a mine, Wasting away blood, sweat, and grime Panning for gold, picking for dimes, lying in wait for better times The tools
, back on up Back on up, back on up, oh yeah, back on up Oh yeah, back on up Make room, 'cause we about to start swelling Catching attitude, get buck sweat
verse 2] I met this kid named jesse on my way uptown Sittin on the train, on his face was a frown I said my man, what's the matter? then he started to sweat