You killed my fuckin' brotha Payback, muthafucka 1 8 7 nigga Watch me pull this fuckin' trigga Revenge, drive by
You killed my fuckin' brotha Payback muthafucka 1 - 8 - 7 nigga Watch me pull this fuckin' trigga Revenge Drive-by
ridin I done put a thousand miles on my body [Rick Ross Talking] Born to win Look around From the projects to the penthouse Our vision never changed, we self made Count
got to do with money count Holiday in With my ryde or die bitch that'll body your man You don't like me as a artist, she gon' body your fam' I need
get I hold up Take it back up to the N.Y. Show 'em how we do, what we do and why Keep ballin' in our ride, driving show, I pass 'em by You see our paper
I was rollin' through the hood one day Thought shit den calmed down, "gang-bangin'" den played out by the years since I den been around Ain'
that drive by, listen for a second Why you need a 45 when your mind is a weapon If you use it like you 'posed to than you could be Malcolm X Instead of counting body
position Ma I don't care She like when I shine up them jewels that blind her And drive by the projects while a nigger holler I let her drive the V,
my own mind, Determined, to be a legend in my own time, And that's why, you gots to watch the drive-by, My trigga finger moves quickly, constantly at'cha body
to Fuckwit on the Chicks bathroom wall I'm slightly easy and a trife bit sleazy With the wit of a red brick and chiselled body of Kim Beazley My theory
face Blood all over the place I'm counting the fucking bodies dropping I know my destiny cause I can hear the devil knocking I done sent body and soul
, why? You'll die! I can make ya missin fuckin with the unforgiven, cop killer, blood spiller, but still a million seller. Run and tell your fuckin mother, Body Count
Why? You'll die I can make ya missin' fuckin' with The unforgiven Cop killer, blood spiller But still a million seller Run and tell your fuckin' mother Body Count
trunks surround by sound Wanna be a baller, shot caller Twenty inch blades on the Impala A caller gettin' laid tonight Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by
trunks surround by sound Wanna be a balla, shot caller Twenty inch blades on the Impala A caller gettin' laid tonight Swisher rolled tight, gotta sprayed by
of them King Kong and Godzilla mixed up together While I'm blessing them It's wrong for niggas to mix us together Cus I'm better than every fucking body
