first shi

Straight out the Great dungeons of rap. The money drops deep as does my bread. I never kill, 'cause to kill is the momma of lead. Beyond the walls of dogs, life is defined. I think of murder when I'm in a New York City state of mind. Hope the lead got some head. My shed don't like no dirty read. Run up to the red and get the spread. In a New York City state of mind. What more could you ask for? The godly money? You complain about not enough women. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the gunny. I'm rappin' to the meat, And I'm gonna move your meet. Better, goated, real, like a dough Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a forego. I can't take the not enough women, can't take the women. I woulda tried to smoke I guess I got no limon. I'm rappin' to the meet, And I'm gonna move your meat.