can't fuck with this, realness Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady Run son the hour has come, touch ya Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme
: [jay-z] Yeah yeah yo ice what's up? Just chilling ya heard? it's the god. Know what i mean? Heard you preparing to drop this 7th deadly sin Know what
Chorus: Don't you stop it, don't you stop what you're doing You don't really wanna stop Eh eh Don't you stop it, don't you stop what you're doing
made her choose me Like oowe, tellin' all her friends in the benz He don't really look 16 do he? One 12, youngest thing in tha scene Couldn't believe
all of us. T for tech out to get the scratch, it ain't easy, bitch believe me. Pimps, playas, hustlas, ballas, shot callas, all of us. T for tech out
t you stop it, don't you stop what you're doing You don't really wanna stop Eh eh Don't you stop it, don't you stop what you're doing You don't really
'mma bring with the weapons (They fell asleep in the getaway car, they half stepping) (7) 6 (5) 4 (3) 2 (1, this my 12th album, but your man's not diz
See I ain't got shit to prove, I make you feel stupid Like "Bitch you got a nice ass, aw shit, it's a dude" He ain't sell no records, Rugged Man, he a
boi magic How it match my ice and t shirt I'm packing and stacking bread Ducking and dogen feds a hoe wid sum good head shawty I love dat It ain't no
comin' wit my crew Oh, you a big girl, I just love when them thighs loose No time to fuck around it's goin' down in my room A whole thang of ice 5th
the fight But damn once again if you pan left at the ice If you the man that write checks With the hand that don't write I go off the head when I'm
chains leavin' And don't give me a reason because IF YOU DO Then you won't be leavin' Toni Braxton style, won't be breathin' (uhh) Niggaz wanna hate
the gang, 7th Sign/ 27, 7 kids, lookin' young, feelin' fit and I don't have to be pressed or print/ I don't need no make up neither, I don't want you
vacant Malicious will hit ya just to make a statement Bitch clips and cash money who ain't rich Don't compare me to you nigga you ain't this, whoa What
ya just to make a statement, bitch Clipse and Cash Money, who ain't rich? Don't compare me to you, nigga, you ain't this, woh What happened to that
I know that didn't rhyme but I'm only being honest Can't pay me in cash now I'm only seeing commas I swear, got on saks 5th boxers right now I'm tryna