On Wed, Aug 15, 2012 at 2:26 AM,
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle-Live at the BBQ(Whole Verse)
In the streets I can great ya, about blunts I teach ya Inhale deep like the words of my breath I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death-NY State of Mind
On Fri, Jun 22, 2012 at 11:50 AM,
I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten
Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave (uh)
Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face
Y'all some "well wishers," friendly acting, envy hiding snakes
On Thu, Jun 21, 2012 at 7:39 PM,
He pulled the trigger but I held on, it felt wrong
Knowing niggaz is waiting in hell for 'em
He squeezed harder, I didn't budge, sick of the blood
Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man's grudge
On Thu, Jun 21, 2012 at 7:27 PM,
Spot's blown, guerilla ice on this killer's life I put my word on it
Now you can sleep on or rock a swerve on it
Nas is menage a trois' on Mount Aire lodges
We like a smooth fam', but rougher than how DeBarge is
Catchin charges. ~ Nas " Live N!gg@ Rap"
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