No Rest For The Wicked (Album Version)
...yo muggs, make it rough.
So many fools swingin’ from my sack,
Let’s talk about the one who had my back!
Down in the west coast, so lemme kick it
To the motherfucker who calls himself wicked!
No rest, no peace! no sleep,
Doughboy rolling down the hill ’cause it’s so steep!
Jackson... lemme figure out the name,
Jack ’cause you be stealing other niggaz game!
But I’m the wrong nigga you wanna fuck with
On my dick so hard, now ya wanna suck it!
Go on the head, gobble up the nuts,
Get your lips ready & tear this motherfucker up!
Talk about ezy, correct yourself.
Cube, better step back & check yourself!
Hmmm... let’s talk about this
First solo album on the east coast dick!
The east coast niggaz all showed ya love,
Especially the one known as king sun!
He tried to warn us niggaz aboutcha
But nobody would listen, even started dissin’
Two albums later, you callin’ my crew,
All because ya wannabe cypress cube!
Shoulda known you couldn’t hang in the alley,
Good boy went to school out in the valley.
Fuck it, lemme make this understood,
Speakin’ on mama’s little boy n da hood!
No vaseline,
Just a rope & a chair & gasoline!
Lench mob is a friend of mine,
But you talk about them niggaz from behind.
You know what the hossack(sp) is, o’shea?
A motherfucking pig that don’t fly straight!
Where ya gonna run to? where ya gonna hide?
Taadow! look at who’s running outside!
Natural born bullshitta! lemme hitcha
With a dose of reality when I get witcha!
Your homie...? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Put a pipe on the cover, even though you don’t smoke
Buddha! let me take you down under on a plane
Where everybody was going insane!
Took a look at the real one,
Afro comb! next morning you didn’t have yours on.
How many ways will you bite my shit?
Wouldja wet me or start throwing up a set?
Caution, when you enter the zone,
Never used to bang ’til you heard the microphone!
I got cube melting in a tray,
Pulling up his card & fucking up his good day!
Unoriginal rap veteran...
The nigga who say he don’t steal from his friends!
Don’t trust that nigga named o’shea,
Fuck’im, and send him on his way.
Happy singalongs!
compositores: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M FREEZE
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