Lyrics:
My poor generation,
We're on for the ride,
An ocean of choices,
Pulled out on the tide.
We're handed a beach ball,
And told to pick a side.
your point is final
You trapped in the cage and now pregnant by a green rhino
Lubriderm is 'pon the cage it's still Octagon
Your girl in tights,
play that song "The Player's Ball"
Run you over Kiesha house, drop you off by Greenbrown Mall
It don't matter how long you try to keep me out
Sam
My slang is mostly homemade
Shoelace to hold my sweat pants
They sag to have my balls right
Rock chants carry ya weak stand
Eat cans of ravioli
I'm young and I'm strong
I've got this God forsaken world by the balls!
I've got a one-way ticket to freedom
Ain't got no one now gonna take it
a buck
Rapping for the people hustlers and murderers
Doctors and lawers cops and Tom Sawyers
Type niggas ball players earning nice figures
Everybody play
I'ma keep the story short like a book that's read by midgets
Borinkins on the map, 130 pounds, go weight it
'swel it's Borinqieun so let me say it
means to them
They shit out and fade away
Never to return again!
That's fine by us
We will never stop!
Won't give up the fight
We will face the lies
We
tight jeans.
She got the long neck beer, got the Jim Beam.
She got the jukebox pumpin' all through the night.
She got the pool balls clickin' in
and started to ball
All along I knew, what she wanted to do
She said she knew me from flowin on that screw
And when I came through her homegirl's house
And ever
the jet-propulsion lab with Young Einstein,(and)
Let me play Willy Mays and say hey to Dizzy Dustin
Formerly known as cue-ball, back when I was called too tall
But now
"It was late afternoon of the same day at homicide police headquarters."
"The coroner's report says the bullet was a lead ball
Fired from
stains I swear I saw your face
I'm not waiting for the world to grab me by the balls and hold until I surrender weeping
I suppose I could say I've missed
a ball dance with this handsome phantom
Tongues of labyrinth, shaping and molding
I'm whipping up a little something in a witches cauldron
Dreams are made
thinkin why these why me didn't know where tha poison is like IV
It's drive ta handle hands like Allan Ivry
Hand in tha be -ball's, even though tha odds
play with guns, then I got em by the tons
Federal Reserve notes keep me at your throat
You can tell from the smell from the fire that I wrote
Don't test
hell if it doesn't work out
Well, that's just the way it goes
Got a job making Margaritas
In a little bar by the pier
Till he finally made some
the pain
You don't owe a thing, you don't have to pay
You don't owe a thing, you can't pay
You got to rule your own ball game
Follow what you know
I thought I could break the sound barrier just by trying
To hit with focus and at random and never dying
A waterfall flowing upstream only human
the brain
My ostrich headband, playin ball
Move upon the floor like I'm Allen, show my crossover now
Cadillac the fifth wheel, six hoes in the back
Keith
promise you dat
Or loose your life on purpose nigga
I'ma be back
Dat nigga don't want to see dat
I'm haunted by night stalkers to death
Rippin your click
up in Wakiki, MTV, figures why these niggas want to envy me
Maybe 'cause this young lady want to sin for me
Because I ball you got it in me?
Uh, PG
Verse 1: Peter Gunz
I walk holdin' my balls,
About an inch from the wall,
Keep hips hypnotized as if
My name was biggie smalls, Your
dance on the couch stuff a potato in your mouth la la la life goes by way too fast to spend it working for somebody else it don't make any sense if you
.png/219px-Nick_Drake_(1971).png "Nick Drake")
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