you know sometimes you have to use a little composure be playa about the situation but this is not the time nigga this is not the time nigga its time to ride its time to ride sometimes you have to keep it calm play it low bite your bottom lip to keep from clickin on a ho in the streets what the fuck don t nobody play from memphis to the bay niggas diein all day over yea shipped with coke and candy cut up into bricks bitches that be thick be settin up them tricks gettin licks rules don t apply to gettin rich start a business sell a ki pimp a bitch make that switch real niggas flip shit and farm the shit with a bad ass yellow bitch eight ball translation three and a half you not affiliated nigga if you have to ask rich kid a queens nigga a green nigga when i say green nigga all about his cream nigga i suggest invest in a tank and a vest cuz me and all my niggas gone ride one time for my real niggas two times for the game its all in your brain man if i had a buck for everytime i ve fucked up i would be the big willy nigga with my feet up but i m in the field killin for a meal around fake hoes talkin about they keep it real money murder all in my eyes real niggas ride and they don t ask why  i m a real ass nigga who i be mj livin to handle business every god damn day now who in the fuck be talkin shit behind my back lookin to find a hundred and thirty ways to get jacked tie you in the sack procede to pack you off too young yea you brought some pain i brought the rain and i stun to feel i wonder will these fake ass bitches become real hell naw don t forget bout the spliff and i tell ya ll should i spell ya ll fake ass bustas before i see ya and i can tell by the scent in the air i don t wanna meet ya and i don t care if its the motherfuckin holidays i ain t gone preach just pose and look up at me like a big ol pimp ass i ll beat cha nigga i smash down to take care of killers who spit trash small pounds no limit soldiers we kick cash at the drop of ball d i m e p i m p tight pass nigga for real trick don t tell me preacher man could you pray for me cuz i m about to sin my homicidal poetry killin again and again t mix gave me the gun when he sat and made the track a mental picture forms when i fire up a batch of sticky green love controllin what i m speakin sprayin niggas leavin niggas layin up leakin for weeks and weepin from my grim reapin realiwin mj wake em up from sleepin i m creepin peepin in your windows smokin regular now you gonna leave us behind we two steps ahead of the competition we leave em wishin upon the moon we here with t mix creatin a boom to move the room its that pimp shit that hardcore shit that shit you run from see i ain t got time for this superstlye shit i know where i come from ghetto hood ass nigga hard nine if you ever wanna meet me in person i ain t hard to find 