we deserve all that we want. Term papers declare them useless, I'll get them off the net. I don't remember a single thing my 8th grade teachers said except
you til you dead or you gone" So on that note i'm leaving after the song So you ain't gotta feel no way about Jay so long Atleast let me tell you why
take your brain up up and away And you ain't gotta worry about them bills that don't get paid Ho's get made in the 7th 8th 9th and 10th grade Studyin'
rappers are worthless Rap Music Profession, Immuno suppressants One question per second, one answer per session You lazy and you wanna be the best? You
you're sound system bangs and you're pushin them thangs Ya, quarterbackin', quarterbackin' [Verse 2 - E-40] Might not know what I'm talking about, if you
way And i'm zoned out at a young age And the whole spruce street was my stage Peep now back then I was in the 8th grade steady But niggaz my age was
for the war Nigga I'm America's Most Barely coast ta coast If you ready for whateva you can ride wit me But if you lie ta me and don't die for me Look
stop thinking about you Then your best friends came over and I got them to call you To see if you wanted to watch the band play ?Dude Ranch? I knew that that would impress you
years old All my life been told, don't you curse or steal Do onto others as they do onto you, be for real Saw my first drug deal, while in the 8th grade
still, you know we got love for you son and we prayin for you and we, you know we tryin to hold it down wh you know while you in there man -No question
I mastered in my young days of huslin mane Fucking bitches, stomping snitches, plotting riches Burning rubber, cooking work That was like Mob Figaz's drop I was in the 10th grade
have a lot of friends, just different guys, that like to get her high then strip her fly physique and lick her thighs, we met in 8th grade and clicked
episode Journey with me as I take you through this nifty little place I once used to call home sweet home [Verse 3- Eminem] My first year in 9th grade
With all that soul, man Lil Bow you?re a genius I'm gonna have to name my next aborted fetus after you And I'll write a song about it but you'll never
, now where's the front? Dropped out in the 8th grade, got money 8 ways Yo ma fuck it I got shit to do So all you hatin ass niggas thought that I would
as good as Reggie Jackson's that's why you talk backwards Enough; chumps be on some Bogart shit like Humphrey You couldn't beat me if you ran with +21