um...Ghetto Production.. Just Listen bi***
conscience, revolutionary kind of, sick with it, bred for struggles..
spitwise puttin work in for the west coast
Story behind the song
hunger for more.
Lyrics
lifes a deal, you either coppin or stay steal
8th grade, the words is startin a play ill
leavin careers nehind in the gravefield
under taker, step son a mother nature
bad to the bone, real pimp, i hate talkin,
bad to a hoe, dont question my skills,
its not a matter a flow its question a time
percise like the kid with heavy lines
i got enuff time to measure the skys
raps mine, latino,
& bitches always wanna see my blacks side
so i whips out the dick, ego's the only thing,
that got me kicked out the crib
i learned a lesson, goin thru shit
hittin weed, gettin swoll in the ribs
boy i'll crack ya jaw til you feel open a spit
hook
call me slept on, pussy hot as the next song
fuck what ya reps are, i hustle,
like fresh did cess-ar, i'm the,
ceasar of rap, dropped out of school
never cleanin my rap, spitin heat in the track
now watch it roast back,
better tell em , better tell em
you cant hold the coast back, dro's phat
you cant smell me you might get cha nose cracked
bridge
hook
da squad, some muthafuckin g's
my dog, od, huggin his piece
and you know hp, splifted,
legs kickin off the lazy, rap for free
dont nobody pay me, i love rap
like a pussy mustach, i keep it real
i nut fast, then i marathon
p to the heavy r, o, illin'
from here to southside chicago
i'll put, blood on ya paco
rollin with some hydro', i got beef wit wax
i let it die slow, i'll never die, no
i stay alive through thru flow
runnin 2005 fa sho, young pro, westcoast
