What, Why, Where, When

ERICK S. SERMON, DAVID STYLES

The Ghost, Desert Storm, DJ Envy
Feel me nigga, fuck with us nigga
Whattup?

If it's a gun I don't mind to pull it
Hit your son with the nine millimeter with the rhino bullets
Know S.P.'ll lose your peeps
Come through in a bullshit hoopty with the Gucci seats
With some Brooklyn bitches that'll boost for weeks
So you know I stay fresh for days
Tote the gun in your mouth, tell you death is just a breath away
You alone like The Castaway

Listen dawg, if you ain't pass a dude then you pass away
They ain't tell you that the Ghost was here?
You ain't seen me comin'?
Told your man that the coast was clear
Now I'm tearin' off both your ears
Kick in the door, load the shotty watch the sofa tear
Y'all scarface niggaz, Sosa here
So the army and the coke are here, we loc' out here

They ain't tell you that I Ryde or Die?
Thirty niggaz on your block, only five alive
Shit, they ain't tell you that I'm harder than Brillo
I'ma give your mother the wire, your father the pillow
I don't play too much, I weigh too much
And when it comes to the drugs, I weigh too much
And I don't say too much, I spray too much
Step over the dead body then I blaze the dutch, what? My niggaz

You know what?
I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
You know why?
'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
You know where?
Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
You know when?
I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

I buy back haze just to get me weeded
One cornball nigga just to get me heated
Listen nigga I am not playin'
He gon' know, the .3 gon' blow and he gon' see the shots sprayin'
Wrong end of the barrel
Too bad but I'ma ring your bell like a Christmas carol
If I run out of bullets
The ghost is a sag and I don't ever miss with arrows

Got a old, old soul, I miss the pharaohs
I am too deep for you, street for you
Wanna fuck with S.P. I'll bring the heat to you
Five niggaz holdin' Tec's on a creek for you
Make the whole family weep for you
Too bad that, they was too sad but you was a scumbag
What? And that's why you fuckin' with dickheads
If they drive through the block I'm turnin' the whip red

Y'all better keep shiftin' ahead
'Fore I take your nose off, put your lips in the head
And all the fiends call me the pusher
But if you see my knife work then you call me the butcher
And it ain't no meat I cut
I'm S.P. listen dawg, I run every street I touch
And you oughta come fuck with the ghost
I got butter open your mouth, see if you could fuck with the toast

You know what?
I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
You know why?
'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
You know where?
Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
You know when?
I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

You know what?
I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
You know why?
'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
You know where?
Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
You know when?
I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

It's the people's choice, DJ Envy
Blok Party, Desert Storm Mixtape, Volume 1

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