Say My Name

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Tell him I want his children, I know he fear the flow I got the guns right here, to blow No woman, no kids, that Scarface shit was years ago Sonny lost his finger then this little nigga's ears can go Been in the room with the spitter King of New York, he drunk, swimming pool full of liquor, right Frederico freestyle and spit on ya It's like LA when the 40.Cal lift on ya It's political the way it works But I'm lyrical, I'm from the underground, I do the dirty work A hard hat, constructions - bars back in conjuction With the hood, got the soft and hard packs, yeah, we pumpin' You got Snoop, we got Jay, we got Nas, you got Dre But you the king of everything, that's how you wanna play? Cool - I go to your show, I know you tour in Spain, money So I aim at the crowd and hit your row Everything semi-auto The home of the 12-12 skinny's, nigga, it's Gordo My advice is, I've been the nicest My rhymes come from the gut -- it's Appendicitis Fred the God on they iPod, I'm in devices It's true, mine's ain't made up, I'm indecisive And I still move the order for the gram You trying to wet us up, I gotta stop the water, I'll be damned B.I.G. casket was in Brooklyn, Pun's was in the X They both was named B.I.G., you should a little respect Big L got shot in here, you show a little respect Like I was your massager, homie, I'm on your neck Must be hanging with highrollers We get crazy when we broke, we can only bipolar Baking soda, the wood works Chef in seconds, I can give Inglewood work And for you rappers trying to put me in dirt Knew I was paralyzed then stood me up on the verse I'm still setting the trap, I'm still cutting up work You get money from rap, and we be up late on the first The first - back to Mr. Lamar Y'all be at AA meetings, must be missing the bar It's a difference when you spitting at God Number one on their list, but I rarely listen to y'all I'm a back in the past rhymer Illmatic cassette in the pathfinder B.I.G. CD next to the bundle Pop's got me hard knock vinyl, from the Tunnel TBM is willing to ride This is verbal murder, I know I'm killing your vibe You got New York sick so you the cancer It's like Philly '96 draft, I'm the answer God