Chorus (x1). Time is short and my life is sick. That's how it is man look at this shit. You get abused by street platoons. Hit you like wind and what-cha gonna do?.
[mr duke speaking]. This jam right here is dedicated. To all you motherfucker that ain't right here. You're supposed to be right here with me, motherfucker.
Chorus 2X. This one goes out to big Duke and sick Jack. Sporty and them Street Platoon vatos sick syde's back. With the type of stuff they bumpin six-duce's and Cadillac's.
Chorus (x1). Sick dogs collide with your stride. Break them off a left and then right. Fight all over these streets. 'till I meet defeat I'm with these.
Run around downtown, cliques throw down in the mix. Clowns and infinite showdowns. Battle grounds all break down, worlds upside down. Making wicked smiles, wicked frowns, we get down.
We exert power with metal showers at all hours. While they devour with mental prowess and kill ours. Show of force for harm it's main source. We divorce our current leaders with no remorse.
Yeah, hold still muthafucka!! Hold still. muthafucka!!!!! Hehehe. . Stepped in the spot, Rydas set deep. Some faggot ass mothafucka wanna get his peep on.
Come on, bring it, come on, come on.... . Skrilla for rilla, money ain't a thang. Cables, links, ropes and chains. Skrilla for rilla, money ain't a thang.
, Mudd (5 Ela), T-3 (Slum Village)). . [Chorus 2X: Kon Artis]. It's however, it's whatever you like. If you that nigga tryna get ahead and you know you right.
). . [Chorus: Nate Dogg]. All these niggaz talkin 'bout what they gon' kill. Heard you caught a misdemeanor then I heard you squeal. Holdin hands with the D.A. while you made your deal.
All your troubles and all you do. All the evil you put out comes back to you. . (Prozak). It's just another day for me I'm askin ya'll to pray for me.
[Hook: Dyemond Lewis]. Maybe im in love with your soul, in love with your soul. Maybe im in love with your soul, in love with your soul. Cause i think about you day and night, night and day.
Hey yo, my flow burns so hot. Im cooked like the coke up. Boy it will over scorch you,. Be a soldier on your frontline. Im wicked with the rapping. The sickest nigga on the drop.
I am not what you thought, I am all seen. I am the top of New York. This is Empire state boy sit. I ain't ballest in the worst flow. Bring it on, I am thrown.
(C.Kirschner) Produced by Concetta and Curtis Curtis. I enter, take my seat at the bar. Order Hennessy straight up with a straw. Adjust my person so my person looks good.
You know we were eatin' dinner at the Red Lobster the other night. and as I looked across the table and into your eyes. I thought to myself, damn you're smooth.
(C. Ambrose, C. Kirschner, M. Linn, W. Sipser). Guitar: Cezhan Ambrose Bass: Walter Sipser. Drums: Money Mike Linn Vox: Concetta. Produced by Curtis Curtis and Concetta (BMI).
Like an all-day sucker. . It's two o'clock, and who that knockin' on the door?. It's like a drum, that's Momma Dukes, ballin', callin' me a bum. And then I'm comin' to my senses.
b INTRO:. b0. I WANT YOU SO BAD. SO BAD. SO BAD. TONIGHT. I WANT YOU SO BAD. SO BAD. TONIGHT. . b VERSE1:. b0. IM FEELING GOOD. BUT I NEED TO FEEL A LITTLE BIT BETTER.