it's time to ride, married to the mob its my bride im scizopranic out on the mic call me mr high busta money mob shit still off the rap my nut sacks slaps the chin of a hoodrat a good rat only my niggas understood that im isolated in the jones with a fifth of jack i waged a war between good and evil up in my head im on the front lines furious of the living dead screamin do or die sip gin to keep me high stroll the holy land murder in the street of a burgerstand my cream bling in the eyes of a dope fiend hit the crack scene with 17 in my magazine illegitimate ritalin looks its bangin ben life hanging by the thread of his foreskin the morphine got me numb now i cant breathe i slapt a clip in my ruger and let the trigger squeeze lets hit the bar spit that game drunk as we are superstar in my own right come the late night order a drink or two mind if i buy you one couldnt help but notice your eyes im the locksmith hun whatcha your name where you from what do you like todo have i seen you once before its almost deja vu beer after beer shot after shock came after bong
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