my blood ain't leaking
...hey mommi, you trying a’ make money and what-not?
ring! ring! I take it you that you won’t botch
the plan to smuggle me, they ain’t had enough of me...
...they ain’t grabbin’ up on me, they just crabs in buckets, see
I’ll leave ‘em stuck in a boiling kettle of malt liquor
trying a’ kill me, all of my life just getting sick and
tired like a goodyear, bodies be the road kill
my bul mark another nigga that the roads killed
back-and-forth with my ole’ grounds 2-4
my girl grieving since her cousin got july 4th’d
my blood ain’t leaking from my body any
my wounds healed up, my mind too inclined to get ‘em
where my killers at, where them niggas at talking shit at that
a tone, or it’s just a long drawn out tit-for-tat
nowadays, I look up, be like “where the buildings at”
so now the wtc’s where I’m living at
women best to have sense to give up the kitty-kat
‘cause if I’m being born, I’m up in ‘em, no need for rap
angels, I’m a’ handle any beef, gotta’ leave it up to me
it’s nothing but a burger hill, I’ll beat up the streets
any slip, luci [twin] from-the-gate spitting up the heat
and I’m a’ have a massacre before word even get back to me...
...so, yo...the world of philadelphia’s too much hell for you’z
I’ll give up the bullets, not the guns, you’z can’t tell it’s us...