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O.J. Simpson
Yo, I got a murderous intent when I jump on a beat and vent
I'm guilty, I leave my prints and print up compositions of that shit
The stuff that rap missed while they do handstands and backflips
Doing too much but not enough at once
Y'all corny, that's why your broads are far for me
And you fall off for false actions
Murder Michigan to death with song captions
Greet it, Detroit's the movement, spread it, it's no secret
Evil so don't speak it
My nine mil allows me to take trinkets
Fork it over or become an organ donor
When the real shit's pouring over
Spilling over beef, I got the cure penicillin over beats
Pen is filling in the sheets, descriptions of the streets
Firsthand, healing ears when I speak
Paranoid, please don't reach
Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles
The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks
The sounds knock through the inner city blocks
O.J. Simpson, watch
Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles
The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks
The sounds knock through the inner city blocks
O.J. Simpson, watch
Yo, some fans got it, riding on the rhyme like a crotch rocket
I picked another hot topic and jotted the homicide
From the city where the drama resides
Dead beats, baby mamas is fried
Blowing kush blunts with dope dealers that smoke niggas
For unpaid debts with a .45 Colt trigger
Rhyme style callous but not like the Pistons
The real Detroit, I don't play in the Palace
Push a dude like me, my clips got malice
MAC-10 spatted then your clique got tatted
Tough talk with me, your point's invalid
Boss Hogg, you witnessing the menace with a ballot
Escaped the front page
Could've been the victim in a gun blaze but left unscathed
Divine intervention, shit, I got a mission to achieve
Indeed, my enemies gon' bleed
Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles
The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks
The sounds knock through the inner city blocks
O.J. Simpson, watch
Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles
The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks
The sounds knock through the inner city blocks
O.J. Simpson, watch
I might not be the baddest man in the world
But I'm in the top two and my father is the known