First question for motherfuckers that’s spittin' this «I'm a thug shit»
You claim you blew out a nigga brain, then what color was it?
A) Reddish like the dark shade of oxygenated blood
B) Brownish like water that’s mixed with dirt to make mud
C) Whitish like the man that created the virus to slay us or is it
D) Grayish like a gloomy and rainy day is Second question strictly for players so state your biz
Tell me exactly what the definition of player is
A) Duke that rock links, flossin' the club and pop drinks
B) The jail nigga that stash the mop ringers and slop sinks
C) The rich rapper who depict the pictures of bigger sixes
D) That broke nigga fuckin' the richest nigga bitches
Movin' right along, question number three is for the females
Never generalize, I’m into details
Other than the fact chicks is too quick to strip and spread
What is it exactly that make a honey a chickenhead?
A) If she’ll fuck her girl man on some shady shit
B) Go to clubs but’ll leave her mother to babysit
C) Swap sex for materialistic objects
D) All of the above, love, you fucked up The fourth question’s a question that still ig me Who do y’all niggas think that it was that killed Biggie?
A) Southside Crips cause Puffy owed 'em a grip
B) Some crazy 'Pac fan that flipped and unloaded a clip
C) Missiles from pistols from government officials
D) The same cat that came back and then sang «I Miss You»
You never was a killa; you never bust a gun
You never held the spot down; was never on the run
You never lived my life; you dead in the wrong
Cause you never did none of the shit that you said in your song
With the strength of a hundred baboons
I’ll beat your eyes black as a fuckin' raccoon’s
Leave you covered with stab wounds
Dead in a public bathroom
You like to tighten your face and cuss when you spit
Know what I noticed? That tough shit is just when you spit
I couldn’t picture you bustin' a clip
I could see you suckin' a dick or probably getting fucked with a stick
Drama with me, son, your baby mama will be Found in the woods, hangin' by her thong from a tree
You spit my life and won an award
But you can’t get my stripes cause you the type to run in a war
Slung jums in front of the store; done it before
Held guns, I’m talkin' at least a hundred or more
Should put a gun to your jaw, to one of your whores
Fuck under the covers; we all lovers under the floor
Word is bond, word is bond
Abandoned Nation, we up in this bitch, nahmean, 2k
Niggas is outta jail, niggas is coming for niggas heads nahmean
All these fake ass MCs advocating real niggas lives and shit
Like it’s some sweet sheet, nahmean?
Shit is, shit is, shit is aggravating god, word up man
Big up my nigga Shyne son, word up, hold your head man
I’ma make sure niggas take care of you up north son
You never was a killa, you never bust a gun
You never held the spot down, was never on the run
So why you wanna live fucked up like us?
If they convict J and Puff, good luck on Rikers

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