/Bout
as ugly as a midget tranny smoking bath salts/Waiting on T, that fat
fucker is tardy / With these Cheers winos siting giggling hearty/
See
em, the footwork is like Christopher Walken/But he's short and smelling
like a miniature Balken/ I hope it's worth what his fam' will have to
spend on a coffin/And tell my mans chill, that his liquor has tossed
him/ That's when Lurch swings, so I weave like Lennox/ Take a
switchblade seize his appendix/ remember the winos like all I need is a
witness/And a third strike means that I won't see christmas/
Yo T! The fuck you been at?!
CHILL!
BE REAL, I CAME FOR THE BLOW
Fuck
Bobby Hurley, bitch ruined my Filas/ Blood stained stripes now they
lookin' Adidas/ T, you strapped, them pigs plot to roast us/ Let's plow a
quick gagger and cock that toaster/
Thinking
of last night, using all of my rubbers/ That pussy hummed like it was
blind as shit/ T this it, the car's half a block at nine and fifth/
Bitch quit eyeing my shit/ Wipe my crack with my hand in your eyes and shit/
Reach into my coat, tighten my grip/ Pull The M3, pump two in the captain/The other 3 fire, buncha bullets, no action/
T
busts out, hare triggers his Uzi/ Mows down two like he remembered a
movie/The last fires a shell that pierces his neck/ T falls next to
Walt, breath screaming respect/
He fires one last round, caught in the pig in his his chest/Says if I'ma do it, I'ma do it to death/
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