Proof - Biboa'S Theme lyrics

rate me

La-la la-la la-la la-la, pretend to sharrrrrre..

Da, da-da, ain't nothin, by D-Twellllllve..

Weed no seeds, last year Cannabis Cup

A druggie that mind hasn't been damaged enough

With danglin nuts I lust for angels to fuck

My cannon is tucked, move fast I panic and bust

Brain burnt out like a mechanical clutch

I'm too schizophrenic to touch

A scandalous bunch don't gamble with trust

Scammin for bucks, pink candy deluxe out mishandlin sluts

After a show bring all my fans on the bus

Next city, leave 'em dizzy, stranded and stuck

Hangin in clubs like blacks in slavery

Gats we aim and squeeze at acts of bravery

Maybe speakers {?} bouncin off of Shady Lee {?}

Can barely add, but still got A.D.D. (what I say?)

Work the do', make 'em play for keeps

I ain't gotta say shit 'til the A.K. shall speak

To whom it may concern, this planet is fucked

Life had been hard so far, I just manage to bluff

Scandal and drugs got my hands in some cuffs

Man it's been rough, but shit I don't plan to give up, uhh

Speakin at AA meetings while intoxicated

Trainin a arm-less fighter to box in Vegas

Plot with haters, they kill me on my block for later

Havin free phone sex with operators

Next Grammy's your man P is rockin Gators

Leavin full with rabbit ears, I'm a pocket raider

Every block invaders, all cops is traitors

Any hood thief hands get burnt like hot potatoes

The hardest mayor that boycott garbage sayers

Thinkin outside the box like Harvard Squares

Wild like Ben Wallace hair

Hate the niggaz that ain't spitters blow up off market favors (you!)

So from now on I'm startin terror

Aiyyo God, here I come, tell 2Pac to wait up

Got young famous that handle any further glory

Fix my son a lunch for school so he'll murder for me

Readin 'Pac and Pun tags up in pergatory

Waitin to get in heaven or "Grimey," that's word to Nore

Anything you heard before me

Hah, it's simple like a street life suburban story

Turn my poor peeps into murkers for beef

Who the fuck is Jerry? I'm searchin for weed

And why did God make all these worthless MC's?

Still tryin to find out for what purpose they breathe

My pops hit the weed and then he birthed a new breed

I hit bad bitches raw cause it's worth the disease

Hate the Ku Klux Klan, they abuse curtains and sheets

And I need 'em at home, but that's a personal peeve

The (Pills) is still (Purple) indeed

And I'm screamin loud as hell "Fuck the Earth" when I leave