Yeah, some niggas got bad reputations man I know I got one But this dedicated to my homeboy My nigga Hex Murda, Royce 5'9", Rassy Kassy C-SICK, Sick Jacken let's get it I'm still a conceited bastard Threw away in Hell and said fuck it to asthma Cause I self lord and master Real nigga, let my nuts hang like a flasher My life's The Hangover, Anchorman and Wedding Crashers My niggas mix the weed and the hash up I keep heavy water stashed up Feed inter venous like plasma Keep vix face down with ass up Like my nigga Cipher Sounds, hope I don't get gassed up But this Ras and whips get crashed up Then a niggas ski masked up to up and go get it My daddy used to say I was obstinate But then my poppa split so why be the opposite? The judge sentenced me said I don't respect authority Yeah, probably true, ask Priority Ask that bitch nigga Garnett in March I spit on at The Source Awards So of course it's on And my verses born with a curse upon So I be fucking clowns up like circus porn Peace to my nigga Hex, get well, we all praying This dedicated to you for being 100 and staying... real And saying exactly what the fuck you feel Like these faggots wearing women's skin like Buffalo Bill, haters I'll let the silencer bust in your grill Fuck pigs too, I'ma muffle your squeals And I still walk around like my shit don't stink Bootleg your album then I'll post your link (nigga) Fuck I'm so I'll and I don't know Bill So I'd rather kill you Hide you in the shower and your corpse mildew View to a kill, niggas hate my guts But gotta respect how I take your lunch, nigga My attitude is fucked up and real shitty My latitude is much up and real gritty Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Watch how a nigga nuts up, like two titties My attitude is fucked up and real shitty I done made enough bucks, a few cities Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Dog I done had enough lunch, you too kitty Now if your attitude determines your latitude This house that we call Hip-Hop, I'm in the attic fool A mic and some turntables, fit for the unstable Converted to a padded room Keep a street sweeper, in fact I call the Mag a broom You seeing me you seeing things You must of had yourself a bag of shrooms I make a call make a faker fall My clique is too sick so say goodbye In the streets where the stakes is high Like Ruth Chris, I'm from the city of true shit Where the mayor went to jail for being a playa right after Proof split Levels ahead of competitors, Royce that I'm drinking everyday 'til Hex Murda get his regular voice back Ras I got you, this K'll blast for you From a block away, ask Tricky I'm that niggy I'm more hooded than black Dickies I rap like committing suicide in the booth taking the track with me Patron's in my chromosomes in order to leave it alone You have to ween me off That Lorena Bobbit chopper'll knock a weenie off Put your body between chalk From squeezing the nine iron like you swinging golf I'm the best rapper alive, put something on it You sound plain as a cheese pizza with nothing on it My attitude is fucked up and real shitty My latitude is much up and real gritty Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Watch how a nigga nuts up, like two titties My attitude is fucked up and real shitty I done made enough bucks, a few cities Have your brain fucked up, I'm too witty Dog I done had enough lunch, you too kitty