'eViL LiFe'(murder pt.2)

We all claim to be true to the game- but most niggaz ain't real nowadays I love my man for the fact that he real And nobody in the factory squeel Us niggaz don't like rats We catch one we drop on 'em wit bats heatin em up wit 45's an' gats From prison cells to chronic my niggaz more hi-tech than Johnny Knuemonic All this perjury and controversy, Ill niggaz talkin bout they new albums but that's the reason I let my shit be let it drop bout early two thousand and three I know you loathein and lovin your bitch Claimin she was sent to you from above But still us niggaz don't give a shit about love Especially since most of yall mother fuckers ain't real artists That's why my shit continues to hit the hardest Whether it be the strip or the yard my rhymes still continue to hit real niggaz hard right up in they soft spot, cus they mans is lame It's easy how real niggaz lay down the game In claim to they stated fame, and there ill fated name I'm not sayin that your shit is wack, But my shit's still better wit lesser tracks That's why niggaz actin all foolish these days the blue flags are ablazed To this shit I am really amazed crip and blood niggaz screamin they names, claaaack!- I be my b's down wit two c's acrossed my chest Hurtin niggaz, at least tryin my best Wearin em down w/bullet proof vests while my niggaz provin em wrong with the strong armin niggaz tests This is the shit that I be talkin about Like an Aboriginee nigga on his walkabout It's my journey into manhood Whether you like it or not The crip city, was my neighboorhood. Growin up with Mr. Rogers, Throwin up with Sister Roberts Hittin on hot latin bitches at church While wavin the blue flags we drag the red rags On top of all this my life is still hurtThis is the second part to my rap serires, so for those of you who like rap, read away, if not stay away. Written January 16th, 2002 © on Jan 16 2002 08:24 AM PST   0 • 17 • 1