Dead Presidents Resurrected SongtextChi-Town, First-N-Fifteenth, F-N-F, Ghostwriter wat up?
No question, you ain't gotta A-S-K
I fly through, pocket full of J-F-K's
I rise to, the occasion like toast
Wit toast on the waist, I flood ya watch flooded like a basement
You and my main foes fold like clean clothes
Sub-machine holes the size of Shaq rings in between ya eyes like nose
Pinky mac ring like the song that Peedi Crack sings,
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