Artist: (Popa Wu f/) I-Born, Lifestylez, Popa Chief Album: Visions of the Tenth Chamber Song: Never Shit Where You Eat Typed by: jannepar@dlc.fi, Tha Masta [Intro: Pope Chief *overlapped by Hook*] Eh yo yo yo yo Yo.. this one's goin' on my album [Hook 5x: I-Born & Lifestylez] Make money, money, make money, money, money Take money, money, take money, money, money [Chorus: Popa Chief] Never shit where you eat, never admit defeat We never got beat, and if we have to we cheat Only t'ing about me sweet be the carrot cake I eat Don't trust everyone you meet Scan for leaks, all the squeeks, exclude the meak Shout your wisdom from the highest mountain peak Keep in mind crooked politicians get impeached Even the littlest shorties be packin heat [Hook 2x] [I-Born] Girl you're big now, tradin your fist for the biscuit Shit this, difficult, we sent to have you dyslex' Mission to stick shift, end up of the nonsense Cee-Lo trip six, head crack come to them dipsticks Shit this, fix got him stripped to statistics Head crackin the tidbits, from ballystics Son ain't hissin, like dumb bat, listen and snitched on Nixon To get his richest, bitches, my definiton Attempts for the hoopin, ends up with the switches Stick politics for their gems, in the midst of a sentence Drain pisses, slickness, got 'em all pinned by tradition [Hook 4x] [Lifestylez] Yo.. blaze us! Niggas wanna test me, but see me not Bust my glock, thugged out, bring in the cops Hittin ya block, stackin cheddar, pushin your rock Drugs and shots, the 10th Chamber never be stopped Eh yo, shorty where my forty? Get my cap and twist After this, session you can have the dick You long for this, gold tipped hard and stiff Gotta get my life right, just before I spit Guns with clips, blow you if you ain't legit Drunk nigga comin through with my Pilot lit What? [Hook 2x] [Popa Chief] Yo, time stands still for no one My warcraft is lyrical perfection I got more bodies than Doctor Kevorkian Ghetto fashions, that motherfucker, no reflection Mental erection, the ear to the the pussy, get the connection? Know the passin, by the leep ends, the valley you end That's your ass, Mr. Postman Guess who's disgruntled? To the core of the Eearth by tunnel Flirted with death, nigga, danger forever rumble I pay attention to details, on point like e-mail Been there and back, quicker than Rocket Ishmail Burned out, frail, dead men tell no tales You can't be trusted like Leon left with a keg of fishscale About that, who you think gon' biggest, biggest sell? I make what I write, while they pump crills A picture worth a thousand words you could feel I'm not stuck on crills, or how many pounds you steal or how many drug deals it take to keep it ill Never miss the mill, before I die I'ma touch a bill Put that on my moms and my seeds, signed and sealed Shot my know on the top of Blueberry Hills Went up in the air and ain't came down still You know the drill.. yeah [Hook 4x] [Chorus - replace "shorties" with "niggaz" on last line] [Hook repeats to fade w/ slight variations, only Lifestylez]