budd smokers, no..
but we ain't got smoked,
we joke far over some broke memos coming out of my backpockets,
now we are westcoast- rockers..!!
money ain't a thing until i die,
bury me cheap, in the Valley
can i rest in peace??
tell me, will my enemies ever forget me..
envy, got they feeling grief
their patience, got me feeling free
flying over their live bodies
like a deadly potion, i spreading my spirit
in thier life, watch me a horror in their living
look into the mirror, clock me right ahead ya
waiting until you go to bed, now
klirr, klack, the big bang, recieves mud and they're back
return like recarination, and blowing this world wide nation
it's my word to them who ain't trusted my ambition
to ride right back, for the fact of a x-filed resurrection
we the W.R. making scrapts, of who, you know who we are
the INC redibles crew, westcoast supporters until we R.I.P.
die, burried all alive, hosting your programmes live
MTV, thanks for never catching us real
here's our deal, out and over the steel, stereo sound, sounds underground
my type, a stereo type, you don't like, studio guys
we kill all ikes, not allies, we surprices them fly, with no sight
future in our eyes, even after this life
india, nor indians, believe in history folks, cuz we hitting them books
look..