Verse 1: (Saigon)
Check it, I’m here to regulate!
Set the record straight, like a bomb ready to detonate!
I separate the heavy from featherweight
Rhyme deadly but I educate
Making a ignoramus mind climb to a clever state
Ain't no time to hesitate I ain't trying to ever wait
When God come to get you, He gets you homie
Ain't never late!
Your spirit'll levitate
For your wake they gon set a date
Doctor try to shock you but you too late to resuscitate
I’m afflicted, I click with the crime addicted
Convicted for trying to stick shit
Now they freedom is non-existent
You be lying in your raps too much
Your story is saltier than cashew nuts
You can’t name one nigga ass you bust
Yet, you rap about killing?
Who the fuck asked you up punk?
What you are is just a author that’s softer than new baby shit!
Chorus:
You make me sick!
Rapping like you thuggin, you buggin
You wasn’t busting or cutting nothing, you're frontin
You make me sick!
Acting like you been there and done it
Always kicking some drama shit cause you don’t want it
You make me sick!
Please violate my clique
Give us a reason to come tie up your bitch
You make me sick!
You’re pinker than the person that was singing
The original version of this shit
You make me sick!
Verse 2: (Saigon)
Fists up!
Fists up!
Fists up!
We ain’t thirsty enough to drink from a pimp cup!
Y’all niggas rapping bout ya four fifths and stuff
You scared of a little scuffle, little fisticuffs?
Y’all be killing me with your gun busting ability
Ain’t no handguns up in the fucking facilities
That’s where you going if your burner really be blowing
I seen how hard district attorneys be going
Trying to lock a nigga for life
They gave poo bear two years, he only got knocked with a knife
So keep it real motherfucker, you ain’t shoot nann gun
Your punk ass probably even scared to shoot a fair one
I got some stories for your ass, but I don’t care to share none
I just wish I had a couple more years to hear Gun!
He died young, he was living the shit that you spit
[Chorus]
Verse 3: (Saigon)
Is it the devious nut slash heathen
In us that clashes with the Jesus in us
That makes us savages for greed and lust
Is there a war between police and us
Is killing innocent people just procedure huh
Unfortunately enough
The media bluff us how they deceiving us
With guns drugs diseases and stuff
Leaving us to bleed in the beast's gut
Is this what hip hop is teaching us?
Yo you think they gonna understand you, god?
I don’t know man!
Maybe I should sing this shit
Put some melody in it
We gotta get back to rapping
Get back to what this hip-hop thing is all about, man!
Raising the kids, man!
Each one, teach one, right?
One hand washes the other
Both hands wash the face!
Saigon the yardfather
I’m back!
Be afraid!
Be very, very, very, very, very, very, very afraid!
Check it, I’m here to regulate!
Set the record straight, like a bomb ready to detonate!
I separate the heavy from featherweight
Rhyme deadly but I educate
Making a ignoramus mind climb to a clever state
Ain't no time to hesitate I ain't trying to ever wait
When God come to get you, He gets you homie
Ain't never late!
Your spirit'll levitate
For your wake they gon set a date
Doctor try to shock you but you too late to resuscitate
I’m afflicted, I click with the crime addicted
Convicted for trying to stick shit
Now they freedom is non-existent
You be lying in your raps too much
Your story is saltier than cashew nuts
You can’t name one nigga ass you bust
Yet, you rap about killing?
Who the fuck asked you up punk?
What you are is just a author that’s softer than new baby shit!
Chorus:
You make me sick!
Rapping like you thuggin, you buggin
You wasn’t busting or cutting nothing, you're frontin
You make me sick!
Acting like you been there and done it
Always kicking some drama shit cause you don’t want it
You make me sick!
Please violate my clique
Give us a reason to come tie up your bitch
You make me sick!
You’re pinker than the person that was singing
The original version of this shit
You make me sick!
Verse 2: (Saigon)
Fists up!
Fists up!
Fists up!
We ain’t thirsty enough to drink from a pimp cup!
Y’all niggas rapping bout ya four fifths and stuff
You scared of a little scuffle, little fisticuffs?
Y’all be killing me with your gun busting ability
Ain’t no handguns up in the fucking facilities
That’s where you going if your burner really be blowing
I seen how hard district attorneys be going
Trying to lock a nigga for life
They gave poo bear two years, he only got knocked with a knife
So keep it real motherfucker, you ain’t shoot nann gun
Your punk ass probably even scared to shoot a fair one
I got some stories for your ass, but I don’t care to share none
I just wish I had a couple more years to hear Gun!
He died young, he was living the shit that you spit
[Chorus]
Verse 3: (Saigon)
Is it the devious nut slash heathen
In us that clashes with the Jesus in us
That makes us savages for greed and lust
Is there a war between police and us
Is killing innocent people just procedure huh
Unfortunately enough
The media bluff us how they deceiving us
With guns drugs diseases and stuff
Leaving us to bleed in the beast's gut
Is this what hip hop is teaching us?
Yo you think they gonna understand you, god?
I don’t know man!
Maybe I should sing this shit
Put some melody in it
We gotta get back to rapping
Get back to what this hip-hop thing is all about, man!
Raising the kids, man!
Each one, teach one, right?
One hand washes the other
Both hands wash the face!
Saigon the yardfather
I’m back!
Be afraid!
Be very, very, very, very, very, very, very afraid!
( Saigon )
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