All that faking in the air But when you see me its so smoky you can't see my hair And I'm known roll a pair snake eyes but it ain't dice I'm a dirty harry motherf**ker so no nice Or maybe I'm so damn cold its all ice Or maybe I'm so f**king cheers I'm like Obie Trice Yall little c*cksuckers can't handle me so I'm another two twenty three end of the line bodys stashed in the shed like bagged bread brotha or even like canned head Get the pliers cus the way I spit these rhymes are like T Pains voice wires Or when i hit the block I'm riding on someone elses tires Look in my eyes its all fires I'll gigoodidy your girl in her gashmoigiddy like Quagmire I'm a old school pimp so my hoes adress me as Sire I'm a mixed young curly n**** with his hand on the trigga Like Pun even if I lose weight I get bigger
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