Y2K

When the smoke clears You know who gon' be there When the smoke clear yo Thats all we got to tell y'all right now Y'all know who gon' be standing there right See its our destiny to count G's an' a semi-squeeze Shoot the breeze, volley how the computers might freeze So Im'a store water, guns, can foods and keep order We spaz out you cats prepare for the slaughter The struggle savoir, got my temple on the border Line, ready to corner you off and get ???, said it Screwball, read the credit, get your whole team wetted (Yo) You dealin with some loose cannons (Yo) ready to dead shit I heard the world was over ahit suppose to blow like supernova's (Uh huh) Im on the hill high off the real, pumpin my ?bolos? (Yeah) Prediction told us turn into rollers, don't let the street control us (What Happened) 'Cuz when those crackers pull the plug they gonna creeep the holders I send my deacon donors, black re-bels, who kill de-vels And move through cells we rule this hell (Screwball) Make it picture pefect cock it back and lay it out Bomb the White House run up in the pentagon and spray it out Chorus: Hey hey hey, do all they talk about is Y2K (Y2Kayyy) Hey hey hey, load it up and let the tech nine spray (*Buck buck buck buck*) Hey hey hey, do all they talk about is Y2K (Y2Kayyy) Hey hey hey, load it up and let the tech nine spray (*Buck buck buck buck*) How many times sour limes and coronas Powerful crimes in America, corna' to corna' What'choo wanna do, cops huntin you Aimin for the kill, layin still Permanent forever chill in heavens field Spreadin doin' deals, more electric than eels Respectin the reals, countin what'choo build ?Prepare was heal? journey, with hard times Examine it, playa's have money at random Sittin pretty, sayin come and get me (First line overlaps last line) Standin infront of the gates of hell Smackin niggas, pullin out the gat on niggas Sold crack, plus Im a rappin nigga I got rhymes for days, I got gats that blaze Ready for motherfucking war See this is whatcha'll wanted, you know it got to be me (Screw B) Everybody talkin 'bout they whips with the TV I need some of this motherfucking rap money I'm sick of this motherfuckin funny crack money Fuck all y'all bitch ass niggas, y'all don't worry me Screw B, QB, from here to eternity (To eternity) Chorus