Låttexter:
I M Tellin Tim

your own life part six You won't play again at abc When you're gonna ostracized like lawrence When I tell tim, I'm telling tim I'm telling tim, I'm telling tim

. Turn it up turn it up Umm pump up up the beat and WC loc I'm like the Last Mohican The rock of the Glock tucker and I'm from outta the land of the hustlers

plates (I miss you) Well Dame told me tell you he's doin well Due to the circumstances, it could've been Bellevue But I ain't got to tell you, you

as if I was rushin with no discussion, try and cuff me and catch a mild concussion. I've taken all the stress I can, peace America I'm movin off to

truce I might buy ?em cooked dough I might buy ?em raw And I might tap your chin or I might cross your jaw Now I might go 18?s I might go 20?s I might

' rougher when it come to the nut buster Pussy crusher, black nasty motherfucker I don't chase em, I replace em And if I'm caressin' em, I'm undressin

go Father Ray, to cut I'm gon' need all the friends I could get 'Cause I'm through with this shit Hit up, Tim, uhm, yeah Tell me something good, mayn

ceiling fans I'm the pride of King Kong I'm stomping through the Congo I can make it clap clap, beat it like a bongo cat got your tongue you tell that

wanna know you Just a little while, talk to me Baby, I'm beggin' Baby, I'm beggin', beggin', baby Just a little while, tell me Baby, I'm beggin' Baby, I'm