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• Artiste: Esham
• Titre: What
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It's the inventor, the wicked ice cold as the winter As niggaz enter The dragon, the 44 got my pants saggin' For all the whucka bring the paddy wagon The terminator, the bitch ass nigga eliminator The suicide comtemplator For your dillusions I bring wicked, that's illusions To cause mass confusion I be the nigga bucka, the hood-rat and tittie bar bitch fucka Got niggaz screamin' what the fuck, see when I'm down with Lord Majai and we both yellin' die Die nigga, we comin' for ya You wanna fresh style lemme show ya Bitch, verbally ya never hearda the U-N-H-O-L-Y 'cause I'm hellified I insist, real life suicidalist And for this I'm a white man's terrorist I never miss when I squeeze the chrome in my fist My style will make your ass drink a glass of piss High roller, money folder Underground rap radio controller The bone breaker, the thug shaker From here to Cleveland, nigga run run To catch the dum-dums Dumb-ditty dum, do-wa-ditty Esham, I'm from Detroit city I flip more tactics than acrobatics Do hat tricks with propolactics Unholy, that's what my momma told me Now I do all my dirt by my lonely And most niggaz wanna kill you while you slangin' ki's I clock dollars while they catch Z's Nigga what This one right here, this one goes out to.....