Unsolved Mysteries
Please be quiet children and listen to what I have to say)

[ Eightball ]
1-2, n***a
1-2, n***a
Yeah n***a
Mic check, n***a
Suave click in the motherf**kin house
Eightball the Fat Mack finna start this sh*t off for the nine-fizzive

Pump that sh*t up, let's do this

[ VERSE 1: Eightball ]
1-2-3, Mister BIG, pull a rhyme out of my mind
And shoot it like a Glock-9 17 times
Like Rakim I ain't no joke, here's the deal on the real
N***a, watch out for that banana peel
Slip and catch the same thing I put into the clip
Out the other end
Understand or should I come again?
See, like Mac Mall I be sick wid this, so picture this
My pockets spittin out much green sh*t like The Excorcist
I smoke so many trees Smokey the Bear is out to get me
Ice cold soul drippin from my a**hole
And I can't wipe it away cause this kinda funk is here to stay
Just like an AK when I spray off all that's in my way
Call me the Glock of Rap, now could this mean that I'm the best?
Or would you rather wait to feel that hot sh*t in yo chest?
I pray to God hopin I won't be on the receiving end
Cause them young punks be packin straps like that sh*t's a trend
Now if I said I wasn't strapped I'd be a lyin man
But where I'm from if I'm not strapped I be a dyin man
Cause n***as snort that sh*t like Superfly and get so high
And when they a** out that sh*t will make 'em do or die
But me, I'm on that green sticky and that Hennessy
350 pounds of pimp n***a from Tennessee
Eightball uncut from your ears to yo gut
Peace to MJ f**king G
And now here's T
[ VERSE 2: Tela ]
( ? ) hit that lobby, man, dead bodies, man
Mr. Mike musta took his d**k out, any shotty, man
I see my n***a big Ball off that wall
Like that Michael Jackson, what the f**k, n***a happened?
He says I'm late for the job, Suave
Handle it, sh*t candle lit was involved, nod
My head up and down with no hesitation, God
I'm seein clowns hangin from that gravition, I'm
Thinkin n***as ain't playin in Texas
Snap off these motherf**kin necks like on The Excorcist
Young and the Restless type of unsolved sh*t
South Circle's the clique, f**kin Suave's the sh*t
B*t*h, and now I'm rollin with them Draper boys
Tela makin paper, boy
5-0 beater, ain't nothin like sweeter, boy
Slow down, damn, I'm askin them in a Maximum
Hittin corners shakin, breakin down marijuana
Eightball, you got them papers, make 'em take us to a cloud nine
Six shots from a Tec-9
I'm f**kin up, damn, here we go
( ?) stereo I think I'm shot, feeling cold as Siberia
But Mr. Mike had his Mr. Mic, so
And SuperMike flashed with kryptonite, I know
It's lookin kinda shady
But I got yo back, baby, with my .380
[ VERSE 3: Mr. Mike ]
Now... I'm creepin around the backway
Peepin the scenery, because these n***as can't be seein me
He packs a Glock with an extra clip
It's ma** hysteria, I'm darin ya to step when I drop my sh*t
As I annoint n***as to make my point, n***a
Me gives a f**k as I rock dis funky joint, n***a
So bow yo head to the mastermind
Cause everytime I recline some n***a's always after mine
(Peace treaties) Naw, f**k that (Why?)
Cause n***as don't wanna act how they know they ought to act
Back in the days when we used to sling ki's by the d-o-z's
E-n-s, ooh, what a mess
Best to leave me alone
And I ain't Kane but b*t*h, Big Daddy's Home
24 hours a day I slay
Pronounced dead, two to his head, he bled from an AK
Unsolved mysteries, could it be
Me and you, you and me gettin caught up in some f**kery?
Luckily the switch didn't click and n***as didn't panic
Now I'm stuffin white sh*t in my attic
Had it not been for the chip on my shoulder
N***as that I communicated with would be older
But it seems they all died
And now the streets wanna f**k and get stuck with that n***a Mike