Lyrics:
like a backbeat lover
Mixed tapes and cushions on the floor
I sold my bed, but not my stereo
I sold my bed, but not my stereo
Paper bags
a backbeat lover
Mixed tapes and cushions on the floor
I sold my bed, but not my stereo
I sold my bed, but not my stereo
Paper bags and escalators
Pushing up
#2: It could be carried by an African swallow!
GUARD #1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European
swallow, that's my point.
GUARD #2:
'm outstanding up in my world but not upstanding in yours
I got a pistol with a rubberband on the handle from dropping it putting in work
And you can get planted
you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there. Like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it but not being touched by it.
*
Words sometimes
come true
But my voice is forgotten
A passerby walks by, and then disappears
The wind keeps howling
I'm walking, not seeing you
Not seeing anything
I'm not a cholo but I know hoes out in SoHo lovin' my ethnic type
When I smile for the photo looking like Lobo
Me and my bloodshot eyes
I pass
But then you bitched up
$50, 000, rejected from Mook
That broke my heart
Nigga not what I expected from you
Thought you was Cassidy, The
Hustla, with
blood's on my hands
I'm just a product of the circumstancе
At a young age, learned crime pays
Forced to be a man
But I wouldn't change it for nothing
It
to spend, they go crazy.
(Verse 1):
I'm going to tell you a story in stereo,
About the pimping game, that you should know.
But if you don't, it's
stereo,
About the pimping game, that you should know.
But if you don't, it's alright.
'Cause I'll be spittin' this game to you all damn night.
When I
shows
An' if the freaks get illy I smack the....
Whole days of my life are spent inside my bed
Just maxin' an' relaxin' like I'm at club med
Ya say you
'd rather be swimming with loan sharks
I wanna be like john and yoko
Spend a week in bed just to never see each other again
That's not how it happened but
not shining
Who keep the pen waiting
But that bitch ain't dying
I'm about to be a king
I put my heart into it
Think bout back in the day
I'll never
never sold no crack in your city
That's retarded as hell
Ayo this kid a clown
I want y'all to hear my impersonation
Of how corny this nigga sound
not hard to see why
My father might be one of the
Most influential councillors in our city
But my mother is the voice of the people
The editor
Half my life ago, didn't sell no dope
I sold dope fiend music for your stereo
Sittin at the crossroads in '84
I knew hella motherfuckers that was
hash pump a gonna led.
© 1993 WB Music Corp./Green Lantern Music/Prison Bride Music (ASCAP)
NIGHT GOAT:
She was my way da bed and i could run my
plans evaporate before my very eyes
Stereo Heartbreak, pain and loss in the left and right
Stereo Heartbreak, when I'm lying in bed at night
Stereo
all up in my city, they still doubting on the kid
I done' proved my self worth. Look at my acomplishments
I just heard all of your tracks, but they not
obsession, the acceptance of me by my
father and mother, who I had not spoken to since I had left home.
One morning my manager Alex came in and broke up one
can I come home now?
I left my city for San Francisco
And I'm writing from the Golden Gate Bridge
But it's not going as I planned
I took a free
a connection to Christmas music and it began in early childhood spurred on by three things. My culture, my family, and my city. I'm a born and raised new Yorker.
MF DOOMSDAY, rapping's my true power
Rent is due tomorrow but I do not want to pay
Yesterday love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place
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