Essential The Locker Room's Random Thoughts

Zero

Wig-Twisting Season
Joined
Nov 15, 2013
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Ol’Otis

The Picasso of the Ghetto
Joined
Aug 30, 2015
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Reppin
South Central Los Angeles
:demonic: ridah time

So many battlefield scars while driven in plush cars
This life as a rap star is nothin without heart
Was born rough and rugged, addressin the mad public
My attitude was, fukk it, cause motherfukkers love it
To be a soldier, must maintain composure at ease
Though life is complicated, only what you make it to be
Uhh, and my ambitions as a ridah to catch her
while she hot, and horny, go up inside her
Then I spit some game in her ear, Go to the tele hoe
You put what money in a Benz, cause bytch I'm barely broke
I'm smokin bomb-ass weed feelin crucial
From player to player, the game's tight, the feeling's mutual
From hustlin and prayers, to breakin motherfukkers to pay-up
I got no time for these bytches, cause these hoes tried to play us
I'm on a meal-ticket mission, want a mil', so I'm wishin
Competition got me ripped, on that bullshyt they stressin (boo-yaa!)
I'ma rhyme though, clown hoes like it's manditory
No guts no glory my nikka bytch got the game distorted
Now it's on and it's on because I said so
Can't trust a bytch in the bidness so I got with Death Row
Now these money hungry bytches gettin suspicious
Started plottin and plannin on schemes, to come and trick us
But Thug nikkaz be on point and game tight (yeah)
Me, Syke and Bogart, wrap it up the same night
Got problems then handle it, motherfukkers see me
These nikkaz is jealous cause deep in they heart they wanna be me
Uhh, yeah, and now ya got me right beside ya
Hopin you listen I catch you payin attention
to my amibitions as a ridah
 
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