Let me cut my arm so I can bleed...
It started with one G,
eight ball in my corner pocket,
how could I stop it,
so I decided to adopt it,
when I got that good poo-nah-nee,
from Stephanie,
b'cuz I had enuf money
to buy her a gold locket
In '96, I graduated from junior high,
I'm sittin' here eatin' waffles and grits,
trippin bout how time flies,
my timeline,
in this life of crime,
is underlined,
by society's treatment of the much maligned
So, I gotta climb,
'till I recline,
is this game no man resigns,
damn, East Germantown drinkin' water got traces of alkaline,
gotta think it's a grand scheme of the Illuminati's design
Poison a black man
until his psychosis,
develops into a neurosis,
of spritual stenosis,
people, I didn't pay for the party
I only host this
Enuf blood flowin' in the streets
that I could part the Red Sea like I'm Moses,
so I take my demons in small doses,
learned to aim right with my grip tight,
don't wanna slip and accidentally Crip black roses
I went from H.O's
to full Othello's,
from teasin' black girls on the corner,
to makin' fine azz white ladies Dez-da-moan-a,
sixty-two's, Big Eights,
changing weights,
from ounces used in the United States,
to the International system,
1,000 grams, one kilo equates
Wanna rise up
like my Godfather Buenos Morales,
have moive starlets suckin' on my phallus,
fly in my private jet, as a man of respect,
to watch the Eagles play in Dallas
24 hour blitz,
on this grind shyt,
sackin' cities like they Tony Romo,
Kelli, pajaro cantor que nunca uso el telephono,
never use the telephone,
even when I'm home,
cellie transcription is way too easy,
shyt, I pay the Narcs to protect me, not grease me
I wanna be chillin' in my Malibu bungalow,
admiring my Michelangelo,
can't go out like Noriega, Manolo,
nah, I be sittin' next to Jim Lampley,
watchin Pacquiao-Mayweather blow by blow,
while my lieutenants make damn sure the River Cane flow
I'm gonna have so many commas
in my bank account that I could punctuate a paragraph,
dead homeyz, Red, Black and Green at half mast,
a nigga dynasty,
like the Kennedy's,
without the fatal head blast
They gonna call me an iconolast,
when I counter blast,
rival cigg boats, splinterin' that fiberglass,
leave them rich white boyz aghast,
when I pull up in the marina with my watercraft,
Alysia, 116 mill, 280 feet of sleek bytch,
throw a switch, watch the chrome flip,
stenciled on the back be "Bigz Dyck"
I ain't tryin' to be Iceburg Slim,
I put an icepick in the brain stem,
of pimpz and 'dem before my momma can say Amen,
yeah, baby Jesus was born in Bethlehem,
I was grafted, from the black scum that lasted,
on the bottom of Ghetto Mayhem
Have a night with Kim K.,
bomb her out like I'm Ray J,
without the punk shyt of lookin' in the camera lens,
let her rest, then spread them big cheeks
in the back of my Benz,
black Maybach, paid in full with pop rocks,
have an ex-cop as my chauffer,
yo, take it to the car wash get rid of the sex odor
Brotha D'ee,
tryin' to rap dat black history
shyt to me,
but that nigga be strugglin',
I can make more than he make in his life
from one morning of smugglin',
fuck dat love shyt, he rip, like he snugglin',
his billz be doublin' while I be with my Cartel huddlin',
nigga can't tell me nothin
Promised my momma
that she'd neva be a squatta,
my baby sister got Down Syndrome.
best believe that I got her,
hell is hot but the ghetto is hotta,
I gotta deal with,
spottas, slum shockas, Rasta shottas,
Nigga Stoppas, police blottas, jealous plottas,
pussy blockkas, how the fuck can I be actin' proper
It's hard as hell bein' a Don Dadda,
gotta cut in dem Mexican Niggaz from La Raza,
can't forget dem Russians, the Domenicans, Jamaicans,
Hatians, Africans and them old Italians,
think they out of the game you be fodder,
brain juice drippin in yo' pasta
This here be my Gangsta Saga,
I be flyin' to Nevada, makin deals in the Ramada,
then fly with a fine femme to Granada,
maybe sip saki, from titties in Osaka,
knock prime puss out da park like I'm Jorge Posada,
the economy is dry but drugs in like watta,
Cali and the Medellin rumblin' in the jungle,
like Ali and Foreman in Kinshasa
I will live and die for the spirit of the Poppy,
go out like Pac on a slab gettin' an autopsy,
fuck it, my brother Keem be my proxy,
nigga gonna do right by my seed b'cuz we tight like epoxy,
yeah, I came, saw, conquered, showed maa'fuckkin moxie,
only stupidity can cut into the potency
of this dynasty
I'M A HUSS-LA, A HUSS-LA, A HUSS-LA,
ON MY TOMBSTONE BE ""MAY HE REST IN PEACE,
HE WAS A BAD MUTHAFUCKKA"