I Hate Gossip
And I don't walk around lookin for it, you know?, But
Yesterday It Seemed to just wander around until it found me,
the gossip found me
Then why don't you try proving it.
How? You don't know how to prove it?, 
well, what you just do is...


Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop... (Oo)
Stop, hatin' on a nigga 
that is a weak emotion
The lady of a nigga
And you could get tipped
like ya waitin on a nigga, and
Put a body bag and an apron on tha nigga

I give my all behind the mic,
but you could never see, if you sit behind the light and
You don't have to pick me.. to win the title fight
But I'm gone wear that championship belt soo tight
And if I'm wrong, there is no right
And if I'm wrong, there is no white
I'm tryna be polite, but you bitches in my hair like the fuckin po-lice
And my flow is rare, these other rappers nice,
These other rappers bark,
Some of em' even bite
But I'm much more bright
I give the game sight
So before you dim the lights you just might... might... wanna


Think it over (think it over) Oo
Think it over (think it over) Baby


Stop... analyzin' criticizin',
You should realize what I am and start epidimizin'
confident, I got the heart of the biggest lion
I'm confident like fuck em all, pull out my dick and ride it
My flow sick, so sick, it's like my shit is dyin'
It rains a lot in my city, because my citys cryin'
Because my citys dyin'
Still I emerge from all of that, I am a livin pion-eer, near Zion.
Fear God, not them
Steer my Robin Coupe through the streets of the boot... and
Soo-woop
And, then I leave a tub in the boot, I leave a blood bath,
Sorry there's a tub in the boot, now where the drugs at?
I'm twisted like the strings on shoe No nigga fuck that
I'm twisted like the string on a boot, now where New Orleans at?
I feel hip hop stole me like a bus pass
So in your possession, I, I, I must ask...


Hey, haven't I been good to you? (Think it over)
Tell me, haven't I been sweet to you?


Drag my name through the mud
I come out clean
Cast away stones
I won't even blink
A gun is not a math problem,
I won't even think
Just leave you dead like the mink
under my sink
Don't believe in me
Don't believe me
I graduated from hungry,
and made it to greedy
My flow is like pasta
Take it and eat it
But I'ma need cheeze if I'm bakin' a
ziti.
You niggas want beef?
I want a steak and weavy, we be
Lost in Amsterdam but Jamaica where we be
Hard body nigga, just takin it easy
All about my paper, bout my paper like Eazy
alot of rappers, why do  rappers, lie
to fans, lie to rappers, lot of rappers
Lie like actors, cut the  mothafuckin cameras
Cut the motherfucin check...nigga fuck your props
Make it out to Mr. hip hop.

I'm not dead. I'm alive 



Thanks to Malcolm H. for these lyrics

Thanks to Jessika for these lyrics

Thanks to justin germain for these lyrics

Thanks to denzel W AKA the diesel for these lyrics

                          Thanks to Tre-von for these lyrics