Let's make rock What are you waiting for' Let's make rock We gonna give you more Let's make rock What are you waiting for' Let's make rock We gonna
, gansta Gansta, yo That's right Journey through the life of some real niggas Some real niggas, you'll never see what I've seen When I sleep, I dream
Lookin' in the mirror, dreamin' about blowin' up The rock crowds, make money, chill with the honeys Sign autographs and whatever the people want from me It's funny how impossible dreams
the grass spineless That's rock bottom When this life makes you mad enough to kill That's rock bottom When you want something bad enough to steal That's rock
m rocking money cologne. Have a model at the crib waiting, "Honey, I'm home." Cooking greens for a nigga, give 'em plenty, a dome. It's funny, we dream
(Easy rock) Rob-vem's committed (Zodac) And Kemo's committed (World wide) So feel this one-two S and M come the realist R.S.C, that's right, we come
them killer jeans Think it's butter I wanna cut her like a guillotine Need to get at her but right now it's still a dream I'd like the thong, but right
are ordering all evil entities to exit this body, leave this body In the name of microphone fiends and a young boy's b-boy dreams We draw you to leave
a fragment of me actually is present The rest of me is heavenly, the seventh house's zenith Yes, the fence intimidates, it's meant to keep you out (But) Let
and ball Call shots, have it ready, soft and rocked Let all my neighborhood, fiends Come to scrap all the pots Let my little B.G.'s run the hood spots And if it's
by DNA patterns to wish you could climb Just a little girl around the way of my set, that's the time Enter the evil opus, focus on rap scrambling Record
can I have enjoyment throughout my life say mo shit knowin MC Mac dont love no bitch because if I loved them I cant trust em breakin this rocks gonna make
down, I found myself beneath the ground, In a place that's strange to me, the earth is black and there's not a tree Well it's so dark there's not a sound
, my pistol grip tight Dub-C, that nigga from Westside mad circle Ay man, ay ay, what's up Wino? Uh, like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up
from the fires of hell, let water, water soul prevail," 'Cos I can't take no more, who's that knockin', at, my door? Is that you, Pete from Cobb's Creek
drink And think that that's gon' make me listen Man, I got cousins from the Dirty South Who'll walk up to this police car Open the door and let me out
Or your crew, say boo, I'm just rocking I'm roaming, not alone in my home On phone with a fly girl who's moaning, boning Bubbling, I ain't struggling
