CAPA/TRACKLIST
Letra : America
I'm a serial killer, spittin' murder words
Mayn, I was hard 'fore you n****s even heard of 'verts
I been runnin' with some hungry n****s out the wind
Ran through hell and I'm ready to go back again
Mic in my hand, I'm not Afro or African
If anything, I'm an American n***a hustlin'
Dogs in the yard, and my jewelry got plenty rocks
Always loved B.I.G. and motherf**kin' 2Pac
Keep it in the hood, keep it hood call me Robin Hood
Except I got a .45 and I'm tippin', grippin' wood
I'm not a killer, I don't think I'm some bad n***a
Though when I'm with you I keep my finger on the trigger
N****s be snitchin' then go talk about it with their b*t*hes
Can't walk in public 'cause they scared them boys come and get them
Can't do nothin' for 'em, can't do nothin' but ignore 'em
When they get him, he gon' wish he wasn't f**kin' born
x4
America - Home of the free, land of the brave
That made every n***a like me
Wake it up, sleep, for the weak and the broke n****s
Son here shine like he live up on the coast
N***a, raw when I spit it, take a minute 'for you really get it
Straight gutter lyrics like my motherf**kin' mouth sh*tted
I learned from n****s, used to watch 'em now I'm livin' like 'em
Rich or poor, it's a b*t*h try'na break the cycle
My pops was in the streets so naturally I'm in the streets
Watchin' how the hustlers dress and how the pimps speak
I took a page from the book and wrote my own laws
No cut, straight dope, cooked up a 8-ball
Now they call me 8Ball, fat boy, tight flow
a little kid, he kinda good like a dyke hoe
Hard top, black tint, whole car bulletproof
The body, the windows, the tyres and the rims too
Hennessey and weed, I'm a fiend for the good dro
8Ball, fat boy, momma call me [?]
Mayn, I was hard 'fore you n****s even heard of 'verts
I been runnin' with some hungry n****s out the wind
Ran through hell and I'm ready to go back again
Mic in my hand, I'm not Afro or African
If anything, I'm an American n***a hustlin'
Dogs in the yard, and my jewelry got plenty rocks
Always loved B.I.G. and motherf**kin' 2Pac
Keep it in the hood, keep it hood call me Robin Hood
Except I got a .45 and I'm tippin', grippin' wood
I'm not a killer, I don't think I'm some bad n***a
Though when I'm with you I keep my finger on the trigger
N****s be snitchin' then go talk about it with their b*t*hes
Can't walk in public 'cause they scared them boys come and get them
Can't do nothin' for 'em, can't do nothin' but ignore 'em
When they get him, he gon' wish he wasn't f**kin' born
x4
America - Home of the free, land of the brave
That made every n***a like me
Wake it up, sleep, for the weak and the broke n****s
Son here shine like he live up on the coast
N***a, raw when I spit it, take a minute 'for you really get it
Straight gutter lyrics like my motherf**kin' mouth sh*tted
I learned from n****s, used to watch 'em now I'm livin' like 'em
Rich or poor, it's a b*t*h try'na break the cycle
My pops was in the streets so naturally I'm in the streets
Watchin' how the hustlers dress and how the pimps speak
I took a page from the book and wrote my own laws
No cut, straight dope, cooked up a 8-ball
Now they call me 8Ball, fat boy, tight flow
a little kid, he kinda good like a dyke hoe
Hard top, black tint, whole car bulletproof
The body, the windows, the tyres and the rims too
Hennessey and weed, I'm a fiend for the good dro
8Ball, fat boy, momma call me [?]
