A wanna be Pac-that got shot-5 times but he still breathing?-but he bankrupt there's the proof he need a God can ya help him find his piece with Jesus?-On me you find around 120 Tattoo Pieces-that's why I am Asiatic Jesus-crusafied and tatted with nails believe me-I'm a True Blue Mega Man-in this Sega LAnd-rolling in my Fantasy Zone Opa Opa we collecting coins with a ballah belly on pregnant fat-I spit it so fresh and bad I'm Mike Jackson hanging myself over the balcony-I'm 2 cold ain't no need for a Blanket baby on me-Celebrity Stars-be saying to there Wife you better look sharp-I didn't pay David Copperfield all that money to stay on his Island-with the reported Fountain of Life to see ya look like your youth declining-I don't wanna hear "What Happened To Dat Boys" chick?-partnah need a upgrade or a Dreamgirl citch-I don't need nuttin I got the Creamgirl Clicc-they opened up Da Mead World Crip-we bring the Yellow Sea-this Asian Crip Organization eternally-A.C.O we protect people like the Guard-violence is a last resort from streets to the yard-we'd rather keep the peace then the arms-I need some Deep Fried Cod they live off Catfish souls-they low bottom dwellers dat know how 2 get low-is it "In Da Club"-like "The Bad Lucc Club?-shitty aftermath you ain't never lied why cuz we Da Realist on Hub-I might spit some freestyles from the tops of the Wilshire Buildings and bless my peeps below-let em shine while I give em a free peep show-a free Freestyle Show-the Greatest Fighters locc in my Pinky Ring-whoever win they Da Capo only second to me-if you can't walk it-you shouldn't talk it-if you can't bacc it-you shouldn't rap it-I'm on my grown mang to much Piatola-until The Third Eye is over-this ABiotola-until the world blow over-I kicc it like Bob Marley till my big toe bad until the end-with bad freakz dat succ my soccer ballz until I'm dead-until they bob and succ out the marley-out my body they Blacc Harley-she know dat I would eat it so gross-like F da Grocery Store-dat ain't gross enough 4 dis loc-messing with Price Club befoe da Costco-I do it to her O.G way bigger and gross-my real girl you done seen her befoe-all around da globe-she already done ate it all-from my toes, to da booty, to my Tooty, to my ballz-I got loyalty to my Mademen-like Ahmad Rashad saying Bill Cosby dats still my "MAIN MAN"!-until they say "GUILTY"! and the gavel slam-Ima hold it down for my "MADEMEN"-these fake ass rappers are sound biters-and bigger hard crown biters-you get put down by Da Lifers-I Line Em Up it's nothin to me-but 4 you it's nothin you can fucc wit on G-if you could you would of uploaded your thousands of songs online already-that's the proof on Da Truth already-the whole world is the witness from Da Topz 2 Da Slumz-The Third Eye is Da Judge-my songs I uploaded is just a little demo-opposite of Shout but still hits like Depeche Mode-I speak & spell with foes feets & tails so kicc ass my sound louder then deep end mode-I Swan Dive & Loon Bomb foez-you swimmers making a splash-but losing this water fight until the last-ya'll can't see Da Golden Wet Coast-so don't tread and boast-with Snakemen who shed and toast-alwayz respect our flow-cuz it's Da Best flow-it opened da doe-fo many Metro Folks-who learned to leggo-from Da Ego-until the Studio was preggo-with Fabrege Eggs loc-just can't get enough of this New Life-like for the first time ridin the Blueline-no Violator I'm a stay winning so true to minez-but the Red Roses on the album cover is cool on mines-I drool this life-cuz half our lives we snooze time-dats why I gotta grind & abuse time-while duccing da True Crimes-dat ain't new to my Trueblue eyez-what happend to dat boy who couldn't do life?-he gave up and chew his own knife-and slayed his construed mind-they be Who? Original Super Hoodstar KazeLoon-mang they be like he had the hoez on him befoe uploading the tunes-and he still hasn't won none of them civil lawsuits-I got tired of them street hoes-I had to leave em alone-I got tired of not feeling my Chempo-plus the Chiropractor cost to much cash-thanks to all them bad hoez climbing on my necc and my bacc-I pulled up in a blacc hearse rollin on a avalanche-ridin shotgun with da Candyman-we rushing as we hop in a stolen cocaine white ambulance-I'm about a couple hundred million on a settlement dats why I ain't mad at cha see-you gone dissapearing in the Sicalian Breeze-cuz on these streets you have no relation with me-

Lyrics submitted by AllyGirl173

What Happend to Dat Boy song meanings
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