Lyrics:
the pan my boy
And if the oil dun pop stan ya ground my boy
I know they wanna see you flop thats not the plan my boy
Yelling out Dear Diary
Oh what
it's worse than nuclear fall out
Keep the small bills separate from the hundreds, please
That bank vault can't talk but the numbers read
entries in his diary
The diary of Sick Man
Overcome by waves of lechery
One for you sixteen for me
Kill the monkey on his back
He kisses big, he
named Screw
And I got that boy Key-C in here
And that boy Poyo in these hoes' ear
And we coming through wit that boy Fliggity Flea
Coming out the 3,
named Screw
And I got that boy Key-C in here
And that boy Poyo in these hoes' ear
And we coming through wit that boy Fliggity Flea
Coming out the 3,
Aye man what you telling me
A page from a diary
Of a fatherless boy
A page from a diary
Of a fatherless boy
Let's go
(Nostalgic melody)
Its take two?
through our windows
Burning down our doors
This holy water is the cure
(You did this to yourself)
I’m surrounded by opposition to my soul
If there were
plain and simple)
Write it in your book, kid
Dear, dear diary (I kicked it plain and simple)
Put it on your pages
Dear, dear diary (I kicked it plain
through monsoons
A lotus reaching, from the mud to the, moon
Out of tune, out of reach, I seek things you can't see
A nameless king, wielding lightning in
burning page by page
It is the diary of a rotting me within
With a burning grin you will crumble
Revolutions are redefined
I don't think you get it
appeared
A pretty little boy
Magi's diary
Holds a work of more than memories
Boys on TV screens
Teenage dreams and fashion magazines
Magi learned of love
this bad
Even though she seems so high
He knows that she can't fly
and when she falls out of the sky
He'll be standing by
She was raised in
Flea
Comin out the 3, cuttin hairs with that boy J-o-e
Yeah that nigga Joe
I done came through, Big Moe never been no hoe
I'm up on this tape, never
Comin out the 3, cuttin hairs with that boy J-o-e
Yeah that nigga Joe
I done came through, Big Moe never been no hoe
I'm up on this tape, never gonna hate
Won't you rise up from the pages of your comic-books
Your super crooks
And show us all the way.
Well! make your will and testament. won't you?
Join
tattoos
Do not act rash boy your life is hanging by a thread
You get two strikes on the third filleting you instead
Thunderclap flash, zenny stance
when I turn the page
Like autumn leaves that fell
From burning trees too soon
Translucent and impermanent
The noises keep me company in every bawdy tomb
I see your eyes
Watching me
But there's nothing that they'll ever see
I built your home from an hour glass running out on me
Grain by grain
Your
of perversion, fuckin bitches on Persian rugs
Washin niggas like detergent, it's the surgeon
Slugs propels from Bobby Steele's 12 gauge
Front page, "Daily
With death in my eyes and not a worry on my face
Every mic I spit on get scorched by the fiery
Live wirey, real life from my diary
Of a madman, I'mma son
the future
Face the facts from my past and stop running from them
This the outro
I’m headed out so, need to speak what’s on my mind
Let it all out, leave
of thoughts flowing
I'll be doing this shit till death
Maybe getting all the letters from fans
Even if my teeth fall out
I'll still be recording in my bed
I'll
something' out there waiting for us (hahaha!)
You can run but you can't hide
From the Westside night stalker, shit talker
Run and tell them it's the L.M
Shut wide mouth
It's my presence
It's too scary
Not the blood dripping from my arms
It's the face boy
Get it twisted
I'm holding a machete
How you not
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