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Chorus: Final Chapter
Is you a real or a fake nigg*
Get caught and run ya trap to the jake
Tryin to turn a benjamin into a 8 figga
When s**t get sweet, this click we can taste it
Final Chapter
Ain't nuthin worse than a snake on a daily basis
The words that test, my job to the s**t is trying to ace it
p*ssin on this s**tty pavement, beef is snare
c*ck back scream what, then face it
Real make it, while b*tch fake it
Sippin henicee, on the rocks and never O.J. to chase it
My click take back like Jane Close in Acin'
Feelin for who stomach hurtin', never ate s**t
Final Chapter, want ya to sleep
Cuz we be comin up this hill, and this hill is steep
I spit hard to make it tougher for ya clowns to eat
Thugged out, my lay it down in the streets
Pound to wheat, from overseas, from L.F.C.
Home of the legends, plus missions beats
For this tale to decrease, y'all all turn sucka
We fly O.T., with fire brain in our chucka
Noreaga
Yo I was told by 3 wise men, you gotta get dough times ten
And when ya mula correct, aiyo the dough straight just
flow down to ya neck
Get ya cash up, cuz some time you pass as* up
Get ya dough right, I knew you were gonna fk with a sl*t
My flow is in and out, and out and in
No doubt, make ya say ouch again
And the s**t mine, get my journal's a spit shine
Stay hard, plus a nigg* hit hard tard
If I ain't in Iraq, then I'm right in the marge
Tao-tao-tao, like the Flipmode Squad
nigg* hop my s**t, so when you cop my s**t
You got a shotgun? nigg* gonna cop my s**t
Yeah my name papi, but I ain't poppin s**t
Straight knock you out, like the Rocky s**t
While ya cornballs nigg*, straight coppin s**t
Chorus: Final Chapter modified
Is you a real or a fake nigg*?
Get caught and run ya track to the jakes
Trying to turn a benjamin into a 8 figga
When s**t gets sweet, this click we can taste
Embrace
To the death, we be livin it up
All my who ain't givin a fk
Cop ya s**t and bust
Don't look here, if you hate nigg*
When s**t gets sweet, this click we can taste
Embrace
Final Chapter
It's been a while comin, fullback endzone with me
Times is paper, gotta make moves slowly
Things changin, prepare for the occasion
School face only, slanted eyes like a Masian
You ain't amazin me, or facin me
Give them 2 weeks, I hope fiends are blazin key
And when you flash ya cards, you never surprise us
Y'all like deetechs, need better disguises
Word from the wises, get dough, break bread
Catch me with a virgin that strictly give head
And when there's somethin on my mind, then it quickly get said
Freestyle, M.O.B., nigg* voi p now
Thugged voice, first choice, ya clowns is secondary
Still full of couple things short like February
From Iraq to P.R., the world is ours
We are, Final Chapter, thugged out, we'll see ya
Chorus #2
