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and bought a gun I'm gonna shoot that bitch for real All these rappers are my son And I know they know the deal I shoot up my gun now watch him run Then he
(You know it) No need for dependence You better accept it You'd never defeat this (Yuh) So stay in attendance Get all your lessons Professor is teaching
We got into a shootout with the opps Somebody son gon' die tonight Slime
son don't waste them good years Cause then you close your eyes You wake up and you're twenty five Sorting you do to the love of your life All these
greener But it's painted on Faded more and more by every storm I need my roots strong Even when I'm dead and gone Y'all just raise your voice But don't know
of the money I lend I can point out all the ones who pretend I call my pop when I’m lost in the fog He know the truth that his son is a dog I got some names
the next line honey nirvana man I'm never rotten It feel good in this Egyptian cotton Pharaoh heights, man gonna send and I spare no rites All my girls
not to sleep He should thank and accept her feeble words to be Mindful hour won't pass him by he believes it's just a game they play Hiding it all
Listen homie, listen I guess you doin' your thing and all, but (hit's blunt) like yo No one fucks wit this shit no more man Like nobody fucks wit it
of this little punk Forgot my key and had to ring my bell My momma came dressed, she said, "Who the hell?" Wait momma, wait, it's me ya little son
I cannot get up by the howling cry Just justify my longing to die, Bury me down at last, I think about it in the shadows and cry! Can scissors
I cannot get up by the howling cry Just justify my longing to die, Bury me down at last, I think about it in the shadows and cry! Can
Take your life and step tonight, like the Masked Avenger or you disappear like a magical ninja I take rappers off like a set of clothes All wick wack
Creole Williams lived down a dirt road He made homemade wine like nobody I know I dropped by one Friday night and said, "Can you help me, Creole?
All you Trekkies and TV addicts Don't mean to diss don't mean to bring static All you Klingons in the fucking house Grab your backstreet friend
They claim to know God, but they deny him by what they do Ye shall make ye no idols, nor a graven image Neither a rear up or a standing image Set up
The summer of 99, I Held up pretty fine My mother told me, son u better run The summer of 99, it took me by surprise Hiding from your eyes, don't
you kiss her neck Brew a cup of coffee in the morning Have it waiting by the bed when she waking up yawning don't need a reason why Cause even when she
kids all grown Looking for somewhere we can build our home Watch the ocean from my balcony every night Still smack her on the when your passing by Last
Get the breesh get the money thats all that im chasin Spanish lil mami she got my heart racing Glock on my body Jamesy he dangerous I wanna fuck now
brightened by all the flashing lights I find faith in the makers and folks who had to fight I'm on stage in Chicago I'm bout to grab the mic In the city
the fuck!? God damn, this nigga ugly as fuck Bitch nigga face look like it Got hit by a bus You look like my asshole, nigga Keep it a buck looked in my pants,
to hinge on her word 'til the end Flutter down on broken wings, while i dream of all the ways to tell her things A lonely life until tonight The chance that
sleep alone Maybe it's nostalgia Calling your house phone I think you know I think you know And I'll hold you by the small And bite you all you want But I
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