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Date Posted: 10:59:51 02/27/04 Fri
Author: VoRtEx
Subject: Gangsta'

. ‘Prt 1’
Gangsta’

Woken early morning by the phone tone, Cats got cash in they purse looking to cop a bone, plastic wrap the fiscale take a shower n’ clean the chrome; No trust for these fiends coz this thugs done seen the zone.
Gangsta’

Manoeuvre the whip to the spot, collect dough buy weed n’ plot, thinking of the beef a man got…If any enemies are scoped on road they gonna bleed n’ rot, no excuses for Mr Glock he don’t care if you plead a lot.
Gangsta’

Link the click at the ghetto crib they loading automatics actin’ like fanatics; they got heat wit addicts getting ready to perpetrate dramatics’, snatchin’ weight from your plate even if you think you’re the baddest.
Gangsta’

Them young hoods want some watches n’ chains to pop, they eyes is focused on that platinum dangle you rock, you coming home from the club drunk one night they’ll creep up n’ strangle ya ras clot.
Gangsta’

You don’t want your brains to get blown, these shells are prone to have a mind of their own; Start spitting sporadic you get hysteric when ricochet fragments whistle all around your dome.
Gangsta’

Sell your shit split the proceeds gained from these bad deeds, it all happened just coz a man said he had needs; Man or mouse getting ruthless for mad cheese, run up in your house for anything from ¼ ounce to five keys.
Gangsta’

Count the cash hide the stash n’ blow, consult clientele make sales invest n’ grow, take a break to digest the flow…Switch guises creep streets n’ startle geeks with bitch surprises all night till the sun-rises.
Gangsta’

Lurking and murking where your working, highwaymen rolling the circuit like Dick Turpin, all the way from inner-city slums to high–class sub-urban; your man head bleeding so much you gotta wrap it with a turban.
Gangsta’

…pz...VoRtEx ©®

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