Lyrics:
What are you doing in your three-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side
What are you making in your kitchen with the oven at 375
What are you
Y'all have commie flags on your wall in your bedrooms
Try that shit with us, turn you to a ghost too soon
It ain't Halloween, but the treat is a .22
wife's bedroom door
Sleeping sound in her bed
A bullet now races through her head
Now Jimmy watches her fall dead
The very woman that he wed
bedroom
You're sleeping alone in the bed Check your window, he's at your window
(I like the way you blush)
I wanna know you, I wanna hold you
You're my
in a big ditch
Yeah yeah
Nigga if you can't tell
Fucking round with me
You gon end up in hell
We was copping big gas
Right by the Shell
It was just me
bro he smart as hell with them books in his classes,
But come fucking with him and he tell me that's when I'm gone whoop everybody asses,
My dad's
Walk a nigga down hop out on feet
know it’s by my side when I’m in these streets
Yea I pray to God but I’m not holy
Stakk Money Hell Gang till I’m
Yeah
My mind state feel like the crime in the summertime
Higher than average
Lot of cabbage
Thank God I never abide by the established
senses
Seven firmaments of Heaven to Hell, eight million stories to tell
Nine planets faithfully keep in orbit
With the probable tenth, the universe
the bar ya
Bar ya, oh my God
Drinkin' by the bar ya
Bar ya, oh my God
Drinkin' by the bar ya
Bar ya, oh my God
Guess they was pissed off
Still in
fuck with the nine and the 380?
I blow a niggas ass to hell that's why I bust so deep
I pack a fuckin' 3-8-0 up in my motherfuckin' sleep
I'll
he'd win or lose
But he looked silly as hell
In those funny French shoes
I know it's not right
To judge a man by his clothes
By the way that he
in the bin
get left with a bruised up chin
if u clash me i will win
i can put a garantee
that if u beef me
it'll be world war 3
i got a whole
fresh as hell 3 days in the same clothes
I'm str8 out da streets, now my pockets waist deep, we slide wit dem sticks in Durangos
No rap, I get paid by
head in a 69 ...
I heard y'all hood 3rd grade y'all keep 60 9s...
I heard you been a ride or die for rolling 60's since you was nine...
cnd yo mom seen
know the ins and the outs and I can spit it wicked
Twisted And you can see by the look of my face
Give me the mic and I'ma mangle it tangle it
at the time were following the realtor in her brand new Cadillac, and as she drove down the street, she sideswiped three cars, ripped a mirror off a car, kept
and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait
Day Three
Dear Nuala,
We must be foremost in your thoughts
I had
you up through the late night
Took her to paradise
But she so bad
Went to heaven and hell in the same night!
Knife in my back, thief in the night, whole
mouth
Beast mode with the G-Code, cancel 'em out
Son, I've seen hell, fell into the palms of Satan arms
Don that I am made 'em bow in the face of God
the boy
I've been missin'
Listen!
I can hear the bells
Round one
He'll ask me on a date and then
Round two
I'll primp, but won't late because
Round three's
Oh yea! We's off the Richter Scale
Hate will get you, put in coffins quick as hell
If the ladies would show it off and thick as hell
For my hustlers
I grew up in North Alabama, back in the 1970's,
When dinosaurs still roamed the earth Speaking
Of course of the Three Great Alabama Icons
George
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Wyclef Jean]
Dance, she's in the city of Gods
Dancin' the capoeira
I see her in Brazil, eyy!
Her cry, sound like 7 million
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