- published: 02 Nov 2011
- views: 819635
Sherlock Holmes ( /ˈʃɜrlɒk ˈhoʊmz/) is a fictional detective created by Scottish author and physician Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The fantastic London-based "consulting detective", Holmes is famous for his astute logical reasoning, his ability to adopt almost any disguise, and his use of forensic science skills to solve difficult cases.
Holmes, who first appeared in publication in 1887, was featured in four novels and 56 short stories. The first novel, A Study in Scarlet, appeared in Beeton's Christmas Annual in 1887 and the second, The Sign of the Four, in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine in 1890. The character grew tremendously in popularity with the first series of short stories in Strand Magazine, beginning with A Scandal in Bohemia in 1891; further series of short stories and two novels published in serial form appeared between then and 1927. The stories cover a period from around 1880 up to 1914.
All but four stories are narrated by Holmes's friend and biographer, Dr. John H. Watson; two are narrated by Holmes himself ("The Blanched Soldier" and "The Lion's Mane") and two others are written in the third person ("The Mazarin Stone" and "His Last Bow"). In two stories ("The Musgrave Ritual" and "The Gloria Scott"), Holmes tells Watson the main story from his memories, while Watson becomes the narrator of the frame story. The first and fourth novels, A Study in Scarlet and The Valley of Fear, each include a long interval of omniscient narration recounting events unknown to either Holmes or Watson.
Verse 1-(C-BO)
We got the warehouse packed from Lamborginis to Lacs,
more ruby an flame pack, than metro rap,
got keys on knees wit g's out of state,
flippin more yay than IHOP flip pancakes,
I'm a boss balla now, shot calla now
rose's Bentley's nigga fuck the Apollos now,
an these bitches be comin by the dozens,
true ballaz never love 'em, fuckin aunties an cousins,
got a have a ??? humble, sticky green gumbo
layin by the pool, hella full off gumbo,
rollin wit these g's, get R.I.P.
by dozen ??? to mini gages, to AR-15's,
see I don't trust a soul on patrole when I roll
4-4 I hold cuz I gotta shake parole,
you can stroll wit me, rock an roll wit me
but when the one times dip, caulk, unload wit me,
cuz I'm a killa, nappy head nigga, from out the valley,
best strapped
down, in Sac-Town, capitol of Killa Kali,
fool I comes heated, when needed, niggaz retreat,
when I blast pair of ??? an a mini 14 when I smash.
(Chorus)
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
west coast niggaz is the craziest,
we got that MOB mentality,
C-BO an S-P-I-C-E,
None of y'all niggaz can't fade this,
west coast niggaz is the craziest,
we got that MOB mentality,
Major Pain & Mr. Bossalini.
Verse 2-(Spice 1)
(Straight G's)
Pullin our straps on niggaz who thinkin they bodies is
made outta
teflan,
wit a 5-0 caliber in my right hand, an a G-LOCK in my
left palm,
Black Bossalini, can't see me, wit a Lexy up on my
wrist,
imagine this, a ballin ass nigga addicted to killin
shit,
??? cross soldier mutha fuckaz so nigga don't fuck wit
I seen niggaz that I done murdered up in my dreams,
when I be asleep,
strapped an I thank God, nigga chasin me callin me punk
ass nigga,
wakin up wit the finga on trigga
spittin hollow tip slugs that goes to figga,
wanna put down, my Cristal, drink Cristal an shit,
but niggaz Uzi think he tellin me I'm gonna die if I
sit,
so I MOB wit the old skool, wit a shot of chromes out
my window,
could it be the S-P-I-C-E wit a fifth of hin, yay an
indo,
Black Bossalini.
(Chorus)
Verse 3-(C-BO)
We puts it down like g's, swingin vipers an vests,
from Benz to Beamers an Lamborginis all on the set,
an keep it crackin from LA all the way back down to the
Bay,
I'm from the, valley, northern of Killa Kali, where g's
lay,
gots to keep yo head up, you slip they drop, they leave
you wet up,
blasted magnum taggin the fool of the big block we hit
him up,
eyes do or die, let 'em drip til they dry
two killaz eye to eye, never duck when bullets fly,
keep it crackulatin, like Pearl Harbor when we spit,
g's bump this shit, from ??? moves to the rip set,
trippin get split,
wit a magnum,
steady blastin now I done seen murder eye to eye
but my kids hope that I'm steadily fastenin,
ain't no love for you thats down at the end of my
barrel,
when I multiply my cash, ridin in my 4 barrel Camaro,
I catch ya slippin, I'm slappin my clip in, I'm puttin
it down,
you been hit from slippin an caulkin yo grip in my
town.