Letras
I don't know what a half day is
Did a little dance when the pack came in
One plus two plus three times 3
How many clips can this ashtray fit
Still hit a old pair of ups with the tooth brush
Youngings on go! Swear they always tryna shoot sum
One plus two plus three times three
I don't know what a half day is
Did a little dance when the pack came in
One plus two plus three times three
You never pedaled work, and you ain't held a brick
I know by how you sound... you don't smell it, you sniff
You're a customer, not a hustler, and it's customary
Can't you tell? Boy I cut coke, and your jugular
I used to have molly, converting it into powder
Now it's 40 hour weeks, 30 dollars an hour
And another 40, in the studio burning sour
He a gangsta in the booth, I saw him-he turning coward
Niggas hard on the mic, but soft in real life
What's a man with no heart? A dog with no bite
I can't cap, some of you niggas I told twice
And that's more than I usually do... so pay dues
I don't know what a half day is
Did a little dance when the pack came in
One plus two plus three times three
How many clips can this ashtray fit
BOW
Still hit a old pair of ups with the tooth brush
Youngins on go, Swear they always tryna sum
One plus two plus three times three
He asthmatic and blazing, packs stacked in the basement
I'm stuck on the scale doing mathematic equations
You owe me your life, add that to the payment
And the dope make me look like I'm half black-and Asian
I'm abstract with the painting, the brush strokes are unique
You can't trap, you just act-that's how you move E
Son named Pepe, gave him 2 P's
Your bitch been a groupie since LL cool J, and Kool G
Hit the dope with the Sweet Chin Music
Can't name somebody out here that we ain't influence
If you don't got it on video then we ain't do it
They ain't take a shot yet, I think these niggas scared