(feat. LoLife Founders)



[Thirstin Howl III]

Thirstin Howl, LoLife Founders

And to be a deck of eight, spit shine my throne

I make a cell, look like home

Suave wrath, and all that

Came home, wearin corp craft

Stayed clean, started bidden as a baby

Sewed a Polo patch on my stay-greens

In the yard, don't matter who didn't like me

Wore Polo frames on my Riker's Island I.P.

Strip search - watch

Where you hide your ox when you buttnaked in the box

Keep locked music, segregated housing units

Don't carry the icepick if you ain't gonna use it

Jail, manners, homemade, magnums

Where you thugs become homo madams

Robbed at random

In the court pins with me, sneakers my size you ran them

Handle beef by the pound, I ain't loud

I'll wait to stab you 'til we line up for chow



[LoLife Founders: different member on each line]

LoLife Founders!

Thou shalt not steal but I - STOLE!

Ran up in Sac's with two gats that I - STOLE!

Snatch Kangols, bankrolls, gold - STOLE!

Crashed a car on the FDR that I - STOLE!

Sixty 'Lo hats, fifty slacks I - STOLE!

Always had a welfare ho that - STOLE!

The same day I came from jail I - STOLE!

On Park Ave. in a Jag I - STOLE!

Knocked out the guard by the door when we - STOLE!

We took a dollar van on the rush when we - STOLE!

Civilians cameras watch me but I still - STOLE!

See me on the train witcha chain I - STOLE!

In New York we - STOLE!  New Jerz we - STOLE!

N.C. we - STOLE!  Philly we - STOLE!

D.C. we - STOLE!



[Thirstin Howl III]

I'll break your jawbone

Got the fast hands; take all Guess and Polo we - STOLE!



Before drama, whatever we end this as

My pride ain't in my pocket, it's in this bag

Whether guns or pussy, I KNOW WHEN TO PULL OUT

My Puerto Rican hair never needed Nu Nile

If you could walk in my shoes, you could sleep in my grave

My Brooklyn style, Big Daddy Kane, Dana Dane

If I was jumped, by niggaz thirty deep

I'll grab one, and make sure they MURDER me

Only death is promised, as you know

But all my baby mothers, fightin at the funeral

Keep the beef, in Brooklyn, for Biggie

If Ms. Wallace tell us we'll burn down our city!

Drank Old Gold, for breakfast, with disco

Timberland boots, bring back forty pillows

You not a thug or a murderer - MURDERER

Only a big baller - if you got a hernia!

It's bout the, DOLLA, it's not an, OPTION

Too official to wear Troop or CapOne

Snatched by his throat, choked

Slapped Freddy Kruger, cause his sweater, wasn't 'Lo

Forty-two steep - sound like, thousand feet

Threw empty forty ounces off a, balcony

Understanding, knowledge, wisdom

Hold up Puerto Rican flags - in the name of BIG PUN!