[Intro: Biggie Sample]
Dumb rappers need teaching, lesson A
[Chorus]
(I'm a b-boy) I started in the park
Two turntables and a microphone makin it art
(I'm a gangsta) To keep my money strong
What needs to be done, carry a mic and a gun
(I'm a b-boy) I started in the park
Two turntables and a microphone makin it art
(I'm a gangsta) To keep my money strong
What needs to be done, carry a mic and a gun
[Verse 1]
Yo, yo, yo, I'm all hip-hop nigga but all thug
Slap the shit out of venus for thinking its all love
A B-Boy and a gangster both officially now
Have your body full of holes like they spots on a cow
Since I was a child ive felt that I was fallin, father please forgive me
Jailed for robbing an organ donor for his kidney
Too angry, kicked out of anger management class
As I reduce once thought of invincible armies to ashes
I was the type of kid that had spray paint can in one hand
And a nickel plated 380 in the other one
Thats when the trouble come, when broke had to hussle some
They brought my mum for questioning, she like, "Not my son"
I'm the man dog, done songs with Big L and RZA
Dangerous as hemophiliacs running with a scissor
Sit back sip your liqour you quicker than the third millenium
Keep my pockets weight up, guns blasting you to oblivion
Blame it on the world we're living in for coke distributing
Married to this music, bout to have my third kid with it
Doctors delivered it to conquer any lyricists
It's my turn but I made it like Texas hating the Dixie Chicks
Dumb rappers need teaching, lesson A
[Chorus]
(I'm a b-boy) I started in the park
Two turntables and a microphone makin it art
(I'm a gangsta) To keep my money strong
What needs to be done, carry a mic and a gun
(I'm a b-boy) I started in the park
Two turntables and a microphone makin it art
(I'm a gangsta) To keep my money strong
What needs to be done, carry a mic and a gun
[Verse 1]
Yo, yo, yo, I'm all hip-hop nigga but all thug
Slap the shit out of venus for thinking its all love
A B-Boy and a gangster both officially now
Have your body full of holes like they spots on a cow
Since I was a child ive felt that I was fallin, father please forgive me
Jailed for robbing an organ donor for his kidney
Too angry, kicked out of anger management class
As I reduce once thought of invincible armies to ashes
I was the type of kid that had spray paint can in one hand
And a nickel plated 380 in the other one
Thats when the trouble come, when broke had to hussle some
They brought my mum for questioning, she like, "Not my son"
I'm the man dog, done songs with Big L and RZA
Dangerous as hemophiliacs running with a scissor
Sit back sip your liqour you quicker than the third millenium
Keep my pockets weight up, guns blasting you to oblivion
Blame it on the world we're living in for coke distributing
Married to this music, bout to have my third kid with it
Doctors delivered it to conquer any lyricists
It's my turn but I made it like Texas hating the Dixie Chicks
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