My Hoe

I'd do anything (anything)
Anything (anything)
Anything... niggas be out her hoein out

Oh yea, rose and parades, my battle, my scar G rosa
Ice feel, how that feel?
You said it was about alien impulses all over yo poster
We postal phone ya, tell the show close the show
It's over it's like an old soldier with no model for tomorrow
I be thinking bout upholding my bottle
Plottin on my Abe Lincoln, loadin hollows with my hands on the bottle
Throw a pistol like I'm middle eastern
Aye ink pins need revival, yo I'm not religious
The palm is which I put a song up in and gave me when he thought I pull em different
Mama's crib is safe, papa's crib safe
All my brothers and sisters know the color of my nickel plate
Still the haters wanna aks me how I deal with hate
Told em you should never look a pistol in the face
You just go the extra mile just to make sure that you're livin it straight
You tell Barack I need a crib and estates
And cake niggas celebrate with you like an O chase
She stay hit yo crib just to get yo face up out my face
Fake nigga, how you picture tomorrow?
With the wrong frame of mind
How you picture love if you are blind?
And the crowd trippin

You see I never called you my bitch or even my boo
There's so much in the name, it's so much more in you
My... make you my...
Shit!

It's crap day to day but I'm good enough on a bad day
Runnin round my town without a sad face
Evidence make dough, moneys fat bills
Come realities back
No strikes back, no
Strike that
I snap til I'm done with my picks til it's sick
A pic's on em perfect as the person is fit
I lock a shot then I shoot to gift
I'm focusin, in dark rooms I develop the prince
So place your bets on he with 10th game fav
Flow is peace, the beam is stack, the light on the street is his
I'm the most west side of any west sider rider
Ridin out by the beach until the day is complete
I won't stop, no can over the prop flow
I was snot nose kid, I had the potholes
In my lawn, I was bomic from dust
Then I grew the fuck up like I still dodge gestapos

You see I never called you my bitch or even my boo
There's so much in the name, it's so much more in you
My... make you my...
Shit!

Glass of champagne on a rosy carpet
The flow is sparked there like light to darkness illuminating authors
Catch the eye, this the point no one's up
40 days and 40 nights, a roasted pork
Stars shinin the brightest,
Rhythm unite us, bring us closer to the roads chose
Wise as my nigga pimp, bow to the signs of blim
Readin the world yours, auderves etcetera
Treat her like a lady til yo cheddar up
Credible measures of competitive
It's laughable, I never was one
To see your efforts standing next to us
Had a few occasions on my exodus,
When rappers start the record
Was the type to be stunted by nay sayers and hecklers
Heck of a rappers, both the clowns inspect the deck I touch
Crimes with the internet, probly there's an spect
Crown me king to the death, karma bring bullet deaths
Then he got with me with the Henny breath

You see I never called you my bitch or even my boo
There's so much in the name, it's so much more in you
My... make you my...
Shit!