From here on nothin goes down unless I'm involved
No black Jack no dope deals no nothing
A nickel bag is sold in the park, I want in
You guys got fat while everybody starved on the street
It's my turn.
While my shoes been getting scuffed and muddy from the dirt I been doin
And my dick is stank and raw from the chassis that I been ruinin'
Wreckin
Only thing smoov-e lacks is hoe protection
Yo lame-o tapes be doin all the same gettin labeled rejected
They weak, like triple deep, talkin bout shit u ain't never done. While I spit this real script bout to touch yo sisters tounge lungs sprung off the rope tossed while grippin the love handles I say fuck David in tough while getting me caught like credit scandals
You snitches become predictable like like a life from rhyme London I passed
Writer(s): Andre Lamond Nickatina
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