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I do not own this music so please dont sue me
One-two, one-two
Kinda tired..
Big l, ’bout ta.. get into some shit
Aight check it out

Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich
I’m from new york and never was a fan of the knicks
And I’m all about expandin my chips
You mad cause I was in the van with your bitch
With both hands on her tits
Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart
I got style, plus the way that I be flowin is sharp
A while back I used to hustle, sellin blow in the park
Countin g stacks and rockin ice that glow in the dark
Forever – hottie huntin, trigger temper I’m quick to body somethin
You lookin at me like I’m probably frontin
I fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest
I’m, older and smarter this is me at my best
I stopped hangin around y’all, cause niggaz like you
Be prayin on my downfall, hopin I flop
Hopin I stop, you probably even hope I get locked
Or be on the street corner with a pipe, smokin the rock
I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you
Only thing I haven’t got is more, stitches than you
Fuckin punk, you ain’t a +leader+ what? nobody +follow-ed+ you
You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you
(mmmm.. whoo!) you on some tagalong flunkie yes man shit
Do me a favor, please get off the next man dick
And if you think I can’t fuck with whoever, put your money up
Put your jewels up, no fuck it put your honey up
Put your raggedy house up nigga, or shut your mouth up
Before I buck lead, and make a lot of blood shed
Turn your tux red, I’m far from broke, got enough bread
And mad hoes, ask beavis I get nuttin butt-head
*laughter* my game is, vicious and cool
Fuckin chicks is a rule
If my girl think I’m loyal then that bitch is a fool
How come, you can listen to my first album
And tell where a lot of niggaz got they whole style from?
(yeah!) so what you actin for?
You ain’t half as raw, you need to practice more
Somebody tell this nigga sum’un, ‘fore I crack his jaw
You runnin with boys, I’m runnin with men
I’ma be rippin the mics until I’m a hundred and ten
Have y’all niggaz like, ‘damnit this nigga done done it again’
I throw slugs at idi-ots, no love for city cops
I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks
I’m makin wonderful figures
I don’t fuck with none of you niggaz
I might pull out this gun on your niggaz
And rob every last one of you niggaz

Aight, we gone hit it like this, check it out

Yo check it, yo my shit is hot like jerk chicken, I should rob you
But with that cheap shit, you ain’t worth stickin’
I’ve got a left hook, that be leavin’ guys knocked out
Keep frontin’, and I’m a choke you till your eyes pop out
I was taught that if a nigga swing, swing right back
Battle Corleone, why do a stupid that like that?
Yo, I’m not in the mood, son, so don’t push me tonight
Plus I fucked your little sister and that pussy was right
That pussy was tight, grippin’ my dick like a pair of pliers
You fuckin’ snitch, right now you prolly wearin’ wires
It’s not a joke, so as soon as he laugh
I’m a strip him naked and stick a long broom in his ass [Bobbito: Ouch]
[Stretch: Oh, word]
Leave him heart-broken, make him quit rap and start smokin’
My album is done, so no it ain’t no parts open
I’m not a sweet stud, I’m a street thug
That’s quick to beat a nigga like a cheap rug, till he leak blood
You sure soft, watched you fall off, might slide your whore off
Then call all off, and tear your jaw off
My life is far out, I got star clout
Every week bring a different car out, go to clubs and buy the bar out
You ain’t a player, put that cigar out
Take that suit off, before I shoot off, and tear your roof off
Leave your clothes bloody-red like the nose of Rudolph
I rocked many stages and never got booed off
I might let this gat burst, put you in a big black hearse
For that wack verse, should have tried these other cats first
Cause none of y’all niggas can fuck with me
And if your man wanna join, I got McGruff with me
We puff much izzy
I do shit that only tough men do
And them cats you with fuck them too, I’ll buck them too
Be careful what you rush into, you lame-ass nigga
No dough, always on the train-ass nigga
Canal street, 10-karat-chain-ass nigga
You got fucked upstate, you cupcake
How many dicks can your butt take?
I ran through every bitch in my path
I was fuckin’ chicks in the ass when I was six-and-a-half {*laughing*
Yo, I’m a take you out your misery [Stretch: Yeah right!]
And after this, nigga, put you in the social study book ’cause you’re history

Our consciousness is a fundamental aspect of our existence, says philosopher David Chalmers: “There’s nothing we know about more directly…. but at the same time it’s the most mysterious phenomenon in the universe.” He shares some ways to think about the movie playing in our heads.

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