Vārdi:
D O A Fucked Up Baby

your mind's like a beer bottle filled with butts. chorus: you're fucked up baby. you're fucked up baby. you're fucked up baby. you're fucked up baby.

waist up And I ain't, wettin' no parts you can't touch with makeup Mr. Jacob without the Ladder It don't matter, clap your wake up and do a shakeup Nobody

bride, the dippin' of the groom The shit that make a nigga up and leave up out a room More like, boohoo then boo, fuck who? Well, fuck you too Fuckin

they show love It's an event whenever I shows up The money it goes up, day by day And baby, pricks should never say my name I came, from a place where

's the Crip side Ain't no other way to play the game the way I play I cut so much you thought I was a DJ Two, one, yep, three S N, double O, P D O, double

connected Locally accepted Roc'-a-fella records Don't get it confused (Roc', baby) Doin' what we do (It's the Roc', baby) B. Sig., Rell, Peedi Crakk, Free, Young H-O

it was just the other night, had another dream about you You told me to get up, I got up I spread my wings and I flew You gave me a reason to fight,

Eight or nine on a boy, holla at your boy Killa, holla Listen it's the D.I.P, boy, plus the R.O.C, boy You'll be D.O.A, boy, your moms will say, "Oh

o.r.e., I'm still good in the bed now And we can break up, move on and don't make up The last kiss or none of that, like a running back Got a little cheeba