作曲 : Phillips, Woods Then who will beat him? I don't know, you know I can't reveal that sort of thing to you Well I haven't got my money yet Head splash, caught him... (eight million stories or something) Eight million stories, ******* Word up, from the hard streets of NorfolkMother****** to New York, all over the world, ******* We win, all day everyday, ******* (Son is missing right now, man) Ya ************-ass *******, watch what happens (Get on it man, for real) Check the ************t, yo, aiyo, aiyo... They found his head splashed, caught him by the side of the building He had a mask on, four-five why did you kill him? It was supposed to happen, clicked the ************t back Yo, this is the deal, you get on the floor and lay in the grass Had me handcuffed, take two puffs of the kush I see you out here, your name's real, can't let you get touched He had a team, Japanese fiend, all of them greened down Chiba lit, blood on his Adidas was thick One second homey, walked over, weapon was boney Long nose joint, "Hold him", grabbed the ******* head, broke his RoleyWhere the blow shorty? Shorty start smiling, "Y'all *******z is puss" Yo, Lex, these *******z, ain't vets, they gush Chunk of meat flew off his cheek bone, broke a seat Had a hole in his ' Lo ************rt and took all his ************ Untied him, he fell, legs weak and son wouldn't tell Now it gets deep, son start falling asleep They woke him back up, smacked him with the Mac, "Where ya slut? " I heard you copped a new Beemer and them glasses is rough They was the Furla joints, eighteen karets, bought 'em right in BrazilHe had the steal on ' I'm, *******z went savage, they had him spread out T position, opened his jeans up Shot him in the leg bone, he rose up like Kung TutStill riffing, this why for real my *******z'll still get it All of us yelling, he I'll with it Mouth bloody, muddy Gucci joints on, them ************ts was nine hundred Couldn't wait to kill him, his sons wanted it Champion hoody was gone, they broke his neck in like five places Pushed him down the rail and it skipped his face Yo, chill, *******, chill Police, police, the bullhorn...(Aiyo, son, *******z better start flu************ng the ******* toilet, man) They just ******* killed this *******, my *******(Better stop leaving ya dirty ******* Fila hoodies around, man) Hit this ******* in the back of his ******* head You, man? (Yo, man, the ******* whole ******* head desintegrated, *******)(There's a hundred police outside) Listen, B, aiyo... They running through the building, man(Y'all *******z gotta shut the ******* up, man)(Then you wonder why *******z be getting busted?Man, y'all *******z is yelling, manWe in the back cooking, B, come on, manWhat the *******? Langston, go to the storeI'm stilling waiting for the baking soda)
作曲 : Phillips, Woods Then who will beat him? I don't know, you know I can't reveal that sort of thing to you Well I haven't got my money yet Head splash, caught him... (eight million stories or something) Eight million stories, ******* Word up, from the hard streets of NorfolkMother****** to New York, all over the world, ******* We win, all day everyday, ******* (Son is missing right now, man) Ya ************-ass *******, watch what happens (Get on it man, for real) Check the ************t, yo, aiyo, aiyo... They found his head splashed, caught him by the side of the building He had a mask on, four-five why did you kill him? It was supposed to happen, clicked the ************t back Yo, this is the deal, you get on the floor and lay in the grass Had me handcuffed, take two puffs of the kush I see you out here, your name's real, can't let you get touched He had a team, Japanese fiend, all of them greened down Chiba lit, blood on his Adidas was thick One second homey, walked over, weapon was boney Long nose joint, "Hold him", grabbed the ******* head, broke his RoleyWhere the blow shorty? Shorty start smiling, "Y'all *******z is puss" Yo, Lex, these *******z, ain't vets, they gush Chunk of meat flew off his cheek bone, broke a seat Had a hole in his ' Lo ************rt and took all his ************ Untied him, he fell, legs weak and son wouldn't tell Now it gets deep, son start falling asleep They woke him back up, smacked him with the Mac, "Where ya slut? " I heard you copped a new Beemer and them glasses is rough They was the Furla joints, eighteen karets, bought 'em right in BrazilHe had the steal on ' I'm, *******z went savage, they had him spread out T position, opened his jeans up Shot him in the leg bone, he rose up like Kung TutStill riffing, this why for real my *******z'll still get it All of us yelling, he I'll with it Mouth bloody, muddy Gucci joints on, them ************ts was nine hundred Couldn't wait to kill him, his sons wanted it Champion hoody was gone, they broke his neck in like five places Pushed him down the rail and it skipped his face Yo, chill, *******, chill Police, police, the bullhorn...(Aiyo, son, *******z better start flu************ng the ******* toilet, man) They just ******* killed this *******, my *******(Better stop leaving ya dirty ******* Fila hoodies around, man) Hit this ******* in the back of his ******* head You, man? (Yo, man, the ******* whole ******* head desintegrated, *******)(There's a hundred police outside) Listen, B, aiyo... They running through the building, man(Y'all *******z gotta shut the ******* up, man)(Then you wonder why *******z be getting busted?Man, y'all *******z is yelling, manWe in the back cooking, B, come on, manWhat the *******? Langston, go to the storeI'm stilling waiting for the baking soda)
