I got this mother fucker locked from Los Angeles, to New York City

lit the grams and made that 7-27 on that 60


don't you come up in my zone and don't you come up in my home

I'm flippin this switch and I'm slipping this clip in and ripping your mother fucking dome got-damn man,

haters always set it off

and I'm a be the first dispersing more than words to get this off

my chest you second guess me, and you best believe I'm swinging

with that SLOPPY WHITE BOY MUSIC kind of head ringing

baybayyy I'm fuckin you up with this chronic and singing that

heyyy heyyy we keepin it movin up on you and bringing that

lately I'm adding these names to my hit list

cause people don't dance no more all they do is diss

but dissin' me is like just downright dogging the whole industry

them cats in Tenessee they know you, and you aint' no friend to me

pretend to be, these enemies they need to fucking lay low

to the curb...them words'll leave you dead in San Diego

I came close to catching them spokes but it was case-closed

erase those...collect the intent, and seen his face froze

and you know that I know just what you knew when he was swimming

with that shark, and them piranahs him, and his momma sayonara saying...



Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving

and where we're going I don't know

and I don't care, and I'm not watching

the road or the signs or the radio the clock

and the windows up, and the chronic is lit

and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker

pass it back, and let me let my eyes close

I'm going...going...gone



So now I'm back up on the block dodging haters, pop-hookers and cops

I watch them spots for the knots cause they keep em' in stock

I'm leavin the ground without a sound no movement tacked to the wall

and if the dramas long distance fuck making a call

I'm hitting cross country flights just to get in a fist fight

with internet pussies now they begging to get right

cause I aint' playing games

and I aint' naming names

aint' letting no lames

gain a grain of my hard earned fame

now mutha fucka I don't really really think you know, I'll do my best to show you

don't be thinking cause I play this here piano, that I won't throw you

across the room, and straight the fuck up out that window, that's where you'll go soon

and buried in the cemetary with your kin-folks, and everybody who knows you

man it's gotta be a bitch in that ditch in that rut that you're stuck in

your mind can barely function, once you're brought up in discussion

that concussion lasts a week, and maybe then so will the stitches

I'm off into the city with yo bitch, and hitting switches saying...



Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving

and where we're going I don't know

and I don't care, and I'm not watching

the road or the signs or the radio the clock

and the windows up, and the chronic is lit

and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker

pass it back, and let me let my eyes close

I'm going...going...gone



Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving

and where we're going I don't know

and I don't care, and I'm not watching

the road or the signs or the radio the clock

and the windows up, and the chronic is lit

and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker

pass it back, and let me let my eyes close

I'm going...going...gone



going...going...gone...gone



Tonight I'm riding, and I aint driving

and where we're going I don't know

and I don't care, and I'm not watching

the road or the signs or the radio the clock

and the windows up, and the chronic is lit

and the track I got you movin' to, man this shit is sicker than a mother fucker

pass it back, and let me let my eyes close

I'm going...going...gone



Hold up, hey

for my crackers that be thinkin I'm soft

I don't, play

fuck your mom until that ass falls off

Hold up, hey

for my crackers who be acting too bold

Take a, seat

fuck your momma in the next episode

Hey...I fuck your mom everday.

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