Милая мама - ты устала прости меня.... Уличная жизнь целиком заглатила... И дня нету, чтобы не было конфликтов И дня нету, чтобы не было оков - ментов
To erase this message press seven, to save it press nine Styles: Pick up ya goddamn phone man, I keep tryin to call you Jesus Christ boy, one Yeah, D-Block Styles
niggaz That wear bandannas and rep Biggie We kept it through, from the heart ripped the barrel B.K. style, see Big howl, now Lets see who, wanna go against Mafia
but, I fucked your wife We bust on bad boys, niggas fuck for life Plus, Puffy tryin' to see me weak, hearts I rip Biggie smalls and junior mafia, some
block shit Westcoast assassin on some real 2Pac shit My style's smokin' like, after a Glock spit Game get the Blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris' Style
But, I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boys Niggas fuck for Life Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak Hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia Some
O Making the block hotter than Jalepe OS G. Luciano Be wettin' shit like piesce in 'Casino' Fifty dollar cigar seer The cosnia, the mafia Don P. like
O Making the block hotter than Jalepe OS G. Luciano Be wettin' shit like piesce in "Casino" Fifty dollar cigar seer The cosnia, the mafia Don P. like
dont you know Killa Klan Kaze playas makin them profits Hoe [MC Mac] chillin down on the lower level waitin for my time to come with this fool a million styles
die in that shit 3 years past and I finnaly got a fuckin break 3-6 Mafia missed the styles niggas start to hate fo i started makin cheese
mafia, is it too much, we mafia mafia mafia, ya Are you ready for us, we mafai mafia mafia, ya We mafia, is it too much, we mafia mafia mafia, ya Are
spot I made it hot bustin' with the glock non-stop I'm full of that block, a young G about my cheese Jackin' for keys, frontin' back to real G's Tryin
You know the steez you know my whole program Brothers from the No-Lands, all we want is the G's guns and grams, livin fat like the Hoffa Mafia, sippin
is mad hot, 100 degrees Slide back the sun roof, catch a breeze Let out the smoke from the trees, torch our beat Surrounded by strink G's As I count Ben-G
's going to be a fuckin blood bath [bootleg] I got more style than prison's got bricks (ain't that some shit) My everyday is a mafia flick (let me make
just hang a bitch, bang a bitch, Leave em in dead, coffin style, bitches love a thug when they smile, uhhh It's me yo, the poet, street gigolo, mafia
