the last 1 minute 25 seconds
...so now, back to the rams squad, dismantled by government tactics
after al-mahdi con tried making me the fall guy, semantics
I had to dip through, so l.s.d. is who the lost angel is
and the machine pushed to give my soup and bowl to lost angeles
the rolling 20s my god tried to backdoor into this business
between vs, got my god kicked out of my house for his decisions
just because a strawberry's red doesn't mean strawberry mansion's
where you wanna' try finessing my youth, my zoo's all shit can be
ever since zoos, al-mahdi con desperate for me to book him
since wanting to burn that unauthorized book on the mosque hoodlums
who murdered me, to think w.d. fard was their father god
I guess, turn to me once chicago's drill's r.i.p.'d to its false facade
my youngin' woo-biddy's murder was a hit on chicago's drill
heard it first from geto boyz' willie d., this movie's all two-reel
the last one minute twenty-five seconds to go, the score was set
against my word, I want all money on my books before sunset...
the l8lita express pt. 6: the trust issue
...if I'm nice to a bitch, I get a smile to my neck, no hickies
so pardon my french when I dog out every b8tch with no gimmicks
fillies been trying to be on the bloods dick, but I'm no kitten
fillies/fem8les been on some ole' dumb shit against me, no kidding
if the issue is trust and there's no funds without the trust, q33ny
the crimson cure can come directly to me now, the bloods pleading
I decreed fillies not a bloods city at-all, but those creeping
their way into their last wishes are tone-deaf 'til their pores bleeding
nevermind sweat excretion, bloods not gonna' stop calling me out
I'm tzu-wu, fillies not, so fillies done just for counting me out
I wreckognize every glitch and nuance luc's cipher hides behind
been shitting himself, I'm no toilet bowl seat, but his hide is mine
in awe about how I see the codes? what's that shit supposed to mean?
pussy, I see you, for sleeping on me, my dick should own your dreams
l8lita best to be my bowtied present, what we'd have is sex
remove our fig leaves, salad dressing marinates her gag reflex ...
chalucciano [r.i.p. 9.5.22]: enter the congo part 12
...damn, twin, you said you can do this 'til your fifty back in oh' six
whoever set lucyfer free this past monday is marked for deaths
my brother chaka called me up, gave me the news, I ain't feel it
them b8tches still denied me 'til his death, the bleus, now they feel me
his mother spilled the beans on my brother adolf hitler's birthday
they mk-ultra'd my bro' lucyano? shit hits the worst way
super-sperms' how I hit the e8rths face, and the codes mm u don't say
mms the word as I put israel back in his place, I don't play
he wanted to be south philly born, black mafia embraced him
the same niggas who killed me, it's tough, he gave me their names, basic
tried sealing omerta on me, put more of the burden on me
and this what the drill is, brother, condolences, perfect mourning
for me to reserect, I tried my best to save my bro', I know
he seen me coming since ninety-eight, pulled me in, I hold my own
as archangel gabriel's host atone, the palmist had it wrong
saying a best friend of mine would be killed, where's proof of that, it's gone...