O.J. Simpson

Yo, I got a murderous intent when I jump on a beat and vent

I'm guilty, I leave my prints and print up compositions of that shit

The stuff that rap missed while they do handstands and backflips

Doing too much but not enough at once

Y'all corny, that's why your broads are far for me

And you fall off for false actions

Murder Michigan to death with song captions

Greet it, Detroit's the movement, spread it, it's no secret

Evil so don't speak it

My nine mil allows me to take trinkets

Fork it over or become an organ donor

When the real shit's pouring over

Spilling over beef, I got the cure penicillin over beats

Pen is filling in the sheets, descriptions of the streets

Firsthand, healing ears when I speak

Paranoid, please don't reach

Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles

The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks

The sounds knock through the inner city blocks

O.J. Simpson, watch

Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles

The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks

The sounds knock through the inner city blocks

O.J. Simpson, watch

Yo, some fans got it, riding on the rhyme like a crotch rocket

I picked another hot topic and jotted the homicide

From the city where the drama resides

Dead beats, baby mamas is fried

Blowing kush blunts with dope dealers that smoke ****

For unpaid debts with a .45 Colt trigger

Rhyme style callous but not like the Pistons

The real Detroit, I don't play in the Palace

Push a dude like me, my clips got malice

MAC-10 spatted then your clique got tatted

Tough talk with me, your point's invalid

Boss Hogg, you witnessing the menace with a ballot

Escaped the front page

Could've been the victim in a gun blaze but left unscathed

Divine intervention, shit, I got a mission to achieve

Indeed, my enemies gon' bleed

Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles

The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks

The sounds knock through the inner city blocks

O.J. Simpson, watch

Yeah, it's like I ran a hundred miles with a hundred styles

The money come in piles, the honeys come in flocks

The sounds knock through the inner city blocks

O.J. Simpson, watch

I might not be the baddest man in the world

But I'm in the top two and my father is the known