Fuck Ya Life - Nems, Jedi Mind Tricks

I wet the whole entire block then I broke off

Lift the boat off Russian sickle Nikolai Volkoff

I ain’t never met a motherfucker that was so soft

I remain fire like folk who ain’t turn their stove off

And I still rhyme cousin with a flawless fervor

I got money and catch cases like Roethlisberger

And y’all are Dennis Dixon, that’s just something different

I need another prescription, I got a pen addiction

I got a Muslim shorty now but the ex was Christian

She ain’t overstand the godliness of my position

Anybody who ain’t family is opposition

The M9 got a big nose, Scottie Pippen

Vinnie sipping on the Goose, god hit this marley

My hands running out of fingers, young Vince Lombardi

I got a tet offensive similar to Victor Charlie

I meet a bitch, I don’t sweat her, this ain’t a Christmas party

Try to stop mines from growing, I’ll make your blood stop flowing

Fuck your life

I make blood money with flecks of blood splatter

It’s drug money, the aspect of it doesn’t matter

All the blood and death is what gives it the X factor

A lot of blood and sweat goes into the trespassers

I kill swiftly, I like to take life quickly

I take a pint of blood and make moonshine whiskey

I like to keep the 911 lines busy

I like a fun time in a crime-ridden city

All the blood that we use is worth every bump and bruise

Once the hunt pursues we ain’t on the Onion News

I don’t run from the problems I start usually

We wet you up, no lifeguard on duty

Then I’m at the bar or a movie

Then I’m with a beauty watching hardcore nudity

Had to ditch the bitch that thinks we’re dating exclusively

The old grey mare she ain’t what she used to be

I’m that last line of coke that you see on the mirror

Take your last sniff, now you think you seeing shit clearer

I’m the nigga that’s behind you waiting to get paid

I’m that hard-assed dick that’s waiting to get laid

I’m them Pumas that you rock that was made out of suede

You the nigga came to cop and got caught in the raid

I’m the venom that lies within the king cobra’s core

That new blood soaking through the enemy’s soul

The spoils of life, the ills of men

John Wayne Gacy, Charlie Manson, killing again

I’m released from the penitent, mind state militant

Bombs underneath the tent, bismillah I repent

Sent to Earth from a distant galaxy

I am no contradiction, far from a fallacy

Freddy in the booth bring nightmares to reality

World War 3, I’m enlisted by JMT