||[Apr. 29th, 2004|12:26 am]
Sir James W. Burrows
Fuck tha frail shit,|
cause when my dope come in, they got to use the scales that they weigh the whales with,
Carseat on the Jeep, but Gotti made the prototype,
hope you get the picture, but you just can't hold the mic,
determined niggas make it, kickin down the doors and we burnin niggas naked,
my bathtub lift up, my walls do a 360, we got the shit that the government got, you talkin money then you rubbin the spot,
real niggas say that they be wilin', we on the Cayman Islands, on a yacht with our favorite albums, smokin and drinkin,
nigga is you thinkin that our fate is valiant,
I love my nigga for the fact that he real,
and nobody on the faculty squeal,
and if you facin capital pun, pass me the gun, and I'ma show you how to run while I rapidly peel...
We gon' make it, We gon make it, We gon make it, We, Gon, Make, IT, We gon make it, We gon make it.