a tape or disco break, I can't revive In this high tech world of fire wire and microchip We still keep the four Five clip, filled with the spiral tip
hearts so cold, they sport frost The M-the-illitant, the Bad Lieutenant kill your camp You're now a victim of reality, my personality Afflicted, for three to five
you gettin left And every breath I breathe untill the moment I'm deceased Will be another moment ballin' as a G I rip the crowd then I start again Internally
The season has returned, DJ Khaled We global now, we global We international now International, Nasir Money fall out the sky when I speak Gotta valet
you fall Obtain five boxes callin' Mayflower, every hour You scratch your brain askin' neighbors what, now you wonder One, two, three, four, five Who
but ain't trying to see Marcia Clark So let's wait till it get dark, so many foe's walk in my [Incomprehensible] It's like the international, house of
watch out Ouch! [Rick Ross] Bitch I got money too Trilla album comin' soon Triple C's, 305, B-O-E give us room Whip the keys (Twenty-five!), in
to say You ain't seen a playa lay this way Or playa game this way Wit a attitude like and ya don't stop Aficionado, so fashionable Wit a confident swagger, international
and weave Hearin' Jake retaliatin', and Wiz was up the alley waitin' We breeze, jump in the ride, heard Pierre died Internal bleedin' inside, and ain't been back since ninety-five
for my niggas, fuck them other niggas [Magic] What you aint heard boi I ride with these niggas I die with these niggas Do a drive by with my forty five
code see to summer Extreme complicated businessman, can't be reached No type of headquarters, deserted land, by the waters Target my focus on, internal
ghetto witch doctor sprinklin' herbs on the voco' I deliver hits like my name was Fuji Moto Platinum and gold, all the way to Acalpuco To all rappers international
bitch Yeah, I'm on my New York shit You niggaz know we deserve the props we get Ridin' up in the range, I'm in my New York whip International chicks
I've been having bad dreams A mother couldn't find her milk Five days from Melbourne I didn't feel too good myself Wool in the hold, a blaze in the sky
we want to go: a little bit of help. See: everyday, everywhere you go, people do stupid things. Three hundred and sixty five days out of the year,
International) For all that it's worth We must hurry now time is closing in And I'm getting no younger in fact I'm five years closer to my pension scheme
I got a hot power lawyer with the million retater South-South, Westside, man, I own my city Got judges on my pay roll like [Incomprehensible] International