Lyrics:
the pitbulls
For fistfuls of dollars and cents, we empty pistols
Plotting out elaborate scams to get our hands on some
Lofts of land or maybe, thoughts of plans
flood
In the area we now call the Atlantic Ocean.
So greatan area of land, That from her western shores
Those beautifulsailors journeyed
There wouldn't be a breath of freedom in this land
And I see people on my T.V. taking shots at uncle Sam
I hope they always remember why they can
Cause
feeling deep inside
And there's a distance down the line
Far away from the station
We can leave it all behind
On a rolling creation
Sit away from
feelin' deep inside
And there's a distance down the line
Far away from the station
We can leave it all behind
On a rollin' creation
Sit away from
circles spinning like a fan
Loosing myself to make you understand
I went and caught a high that made me want to land
In your palm is pain, I don't need
night diners keep you awake
On black coffee and a hard roll, woo
You might have to walk a fine line (say it)
You might take the hard line
But
Yeah
Tryna figure out the difference
But I think, think the lines are starting to get blurred
I'm in a strange place
I feel like Ma$e when he
back down
You take the leading role, and I'll play the background
I know I miss my cues, know I forget my lines
I'm sticking to your script, and I'm
royally screwed,
"I'm ready for my close up, where's the mark, where's my line, where's my lunch, I, oh I love the sound of that voice"
Nobody talks like
Hold on, this sounds like elevator music
Chris Brown
Big Boi
Yeah
Hook, line and sinker, I knew she was mine the day I seen her
Got a big
Well, backwater done rose all around
Sumner now, drove me down the line
Backwater done rose at Sumner,
Drove poor Charley down the line
Lord,
Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers
Niggas grab your gats, bitches take a glance at
The little one, pullin' over in the Land Rover
Playin'
the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standing firm
On foreign land, jump the gun out the frying
pikin, I don pass school, university, se-fa pass
As I don start to work, na government I must se-fa pass
Da go for France
YES SIR/YES MAAM
Engi-land, YES
the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standing firm
On foreign land, jump the gun out the frying
hours, substandard pay
Then they took our contract away
Fourteen months is a mighty long time
To face the goons on the picket line
In Perry County
I'm
When the whale gets striked and
The line run down
And the whale makes a flunder with his tail
And the boat capsized and I
Lost my darlin' man
No more
Yeah
Tryna figure out the difference
But I think, think the lines are starting to get blurred
I'm in a strange place
I feel like Ma$e when he
Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers
Niggas grab your gats, bitches take a glance at
The little one, pullin' over in the Land Rover
Playin'
lost race
Age in the black ink blur of a rained-on print-out.
I wake up dumbly and stroll through the police line-up of my daily selves;
And in
all across the land
There's no need to argue
Parents just don't understand
"Parents" 24 lines, 734 characters.
I remember one year
My mom took me
Loaded uptown 'til your feet fall off
Hold yourself down 'til you can't come up
Hard times in the promised land
Looking for a thief in the common
some land when I'm thirty
Don't like her, she's too flirty
Or that one either cah she gon' hurt me
Call me the calm before the storm
Because I'm
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