Vārdi:
Forty Deuce

's my little Deuce Coupe You don't know what I've got Little Deuce Coupe You don't know what I've got Just a little Deuce Coupe with a flathead mill (Deuce

do Beer drinkin', breath stinkin', sniffin' glue Belly fillin', always illin', bustin' caps My name's Mike D and I write my own snaps Now I'm a peep-show seekin' on the forty-deuce

you have to come with 2Pacalypse Five stars, twenty rims, five cars I'd add more but I had to subtract one from five bars I got four forty-fours on a

Knuckleheads spreadin' gossip all over town Every time I drive by you're just standin' around Hundred-bottles in your pocket, forty-dog in your hand Don

straight facts You either be a mack, or you get macked Some of the jealous wanna roll on the boss But this HK's keepin em tossed Cause I duck them deuce deuce

do? Made a deranged mind out of someone in your same crew Fuck man, we grew up together Run DMC, tougher than leather With the same outfits, forty deuce

d be better off dead But in the crimson dawn, Black Rose would unfold And drain all the poison from my soul Now I'm standin' up here on forty deuce Another

pages for one verse to make up Twenty four bars of rage shakin' Bay Area earthquakes up It's like that, lettin' loose juice wit forty deuce First class

the days of fat shoelace Screwface me all you want, but I'm used to it I'll never give up rep in new york, I'm true to it From forty-deuce to queens