Late 808

To da one on da flam

Boy it’s tough

I just toss that ham in the fryin’ pan

Like spam

It’s done when I come in

Slam

Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam

I got a call from my girl last week

She telling me about that time of the month, and how it may not come

Dropped the phone right before she said I might have a son

And I started asking God how come

I got dreams I ain’t reach yet, ends that ain’t meet yet

And when it comes to being a man, shit I’m barely getting my feet wet

I put my hand upon your hip

When I dip you dip we dip

You put your hand upon my hip

When you dip I dip we dip

Major MCs become minor B-flats

So retire the mic, get your chains and your bats

Here’s your chance to advance, get in your stance

I shoot the holster off your cowboy pants

Sick, sick dreams of picnic scenes

Two kids, 16 with M-16’s and 10 clips each

And them shits reach through six kids each

Dead in the middle of Little Italy

Little did we know that we riddled

some middleman who didn’t do diddly

Momma ain’t raised no fool

Put me anywhere on God’s green earth, I’ll triple my worth

Smooth—not what I am

Rough—cause’ I’m a man

City runnin wild, cats don’t give a fuck

Junior High students don’t say no to drugs

Liquor stores don’t ask shorties for their ID

This is a place where don’t nothin surprise me

And I don’t claim to know much, all I really know is

We were 17 once actin’ like we were immortals

I could kill it all day, but you can only kill me once

Shells lay around on the battleground

Dead bodies are found throughout the town

Tried to put shame in my game to make a name

I’mma put it on a bullet, put it in your brain

It’s not your enemy who get you, it’s always your own people

You like to exaggerate, dream and imaginate

Then change the rhyme around, that can aggravate me

So when you see me come up, freeze

Or you’ll be one of those 7 mc’s

Reflect upon greatness, embrace it to your balance

Ultimate awareness comes from when you seek the truth

See, life is a journey, plans and patience

Know that you’re worthy, transformation

You couldn’t catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer.

That’s like Malcolm X catching the Jungle Fever

I’m a menace to society

But girls in biker shorts are so fly to me!

After the date, Ima want to do the wild thing

You’re talking lobster, I’m thinking Burger King

I’m representing for the gangsters all across the world

Still hitting them corners in them low low’s girl

I’ve been nice since niggas got killed over 8-ball jackets

and Reebok Pumps that didn’t do shit for the sneaker

I’m a heatseaker with features that’ll reach through the speaker

and murder counter revolutionaries personally

It’s time to stand together in a unity

Cause if not then we’re soon to be

Self-destroyed, unemployed

The rap race will be lost without a trace

I’m alone but my tone is a sharp tune

Developing pictures in your brain like a darkroom

Rappers are captured and tortured with rapture

In 3-D is a G coming at you

I love a young lady that’s beautiful

But one that’s smart for me, is more suitable

In other words, to make it simple and plain

You gotta have a brain in order to be Ms. Kane

Now we livin’ better now,

Gucci sweater now,

And that G4 could fly through, any weather now,

See niggas get tight, when you worth some millions.

That’s why I sport the chincilla to hurt they feelin’s.

Dead right, if the head right, biggie there every night

Come with a nice young lady

Intelligent, yes she gentle and irie

Everywhere me go me never lef’ her at all-ie

Yes-a Daddy Snow me are the roam dance man-a

And battlin’ me is hazardous to health,

so put a quarter in your ass, cuz ya played yourself

Like a game in the arcade. You need a far aid.

I’m walkin’the path that Allah made

Now we livin’ better now,

Gucci sweater now,

And that G4 could fly through, any weather now,

See n….. get tight, when you worth some millions.

That’s why I sport the chincilla to hurt they feelin’s.

I said, “Cheer up,” I gave her a kiss

I said, “You can’t have me, I’m too young for you miss.”

She says,”No, you’re not!” then she starts crying

I says, “I’m nineteen,” she said, “Stop lying!”

I’m investin mils on a hunch over lunch, puffin chesterfield, who wants to test the real scandalous?

Can’t pay my rent cause all my money’s spent

But that’s okay, cause I’m still fly

With more power than a spark plug

Termite cause to live wire

A rhyme writer that spit higher than split fire

We street fighters with kicks tighter than Ryu

I started off with too much cargo dropped four n….. now I’m making all the dough

Talkin’ bout who you gon’ squabble with and who you shoot

You’re only sixty pounds when you’re wet and wearin’ boots

All we want to do is party and bullshit

Best friends and money, I lost them both