Pocketful of money, parking lot full of them haters Triple beam dreamin', crib with 2 elevators 20 flat screens they got cameras every angle Dope been coming so you know the income major Rule number 1 I can't do business with a stranger Contract killers

Need a bishop preaching fire To get away with my sins Despise everything I see I come from the ashes of molten hatred Raised by the demons in abodes of the end The reaper's scythe I fall upon to light my path Wrecked by mangled wounds of life I have

Maybe it's just jealousy Mixed up with a violent mind A circumstance that doesn't make much sense Or maybe I'm just dumb I don't know you but I think I hate you You're the reason for my misery Strange, how you've become my biggest enemy And I've never

I wanna go home with you Home with you Why don't we find somewhere quiet? Too many cooks in the kitchen Too many fools here listening Yeah, we can do whatever you want to Come on and set the mood Yeah, we can go as slow as you want to

Yeah I'm down if you feel like messin' around Whatever you want, shoot, I don't care, you can come over here I can come over there And pick you up, that's right On a sit around Saturday night with nothing to do And you just want something to do All you

That's why the lady is a tramp That's why this lady is a tramp She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight (I am starving) She loves the theater, but she never comes late I never bother, with people that I hate That's why this chick is a tramp She doesn't

Man I hate rap, but if the shoe fits, wear it I've become a freak of nature all the kids stare at Who walk around bumping RAW with the shit blaring Saying "fuck school" and dropping out like a miscarriage I'm embarrassed And I'm ashamed I played a part

Need a bishop preaching fire To get away with my sins Despise everything I see I come from the ashes of molten hatred Raised by the demons in abodes of the end The reaper's scythe I fall upon to light my path Wrecked by mangled wounds of life I have

Plaque on the wall says that no one's slept here It's rare to come upon a bridge that has not been around Or been stepped on Whatever the notions we laced in our prayers The man upstairs is used to all of this noise I'm through with screaming And echoes

That's why the lady is a tramp Life without care She gets too hungry for dinner at eight She likes the theatre and never comes late She never bothers with people she'd hate Doesn't like crap games with barons or earls Won't go to Harlem in ermine and