Lyrics:
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
We done turned to a bygone don crew
We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
A lifetime criminal, live by
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
that Pimp caught two cases
He got probation, said, "Fuck you hoes"
We finish the album, got ready to do a couple shows
And then he violated, one month
first met, we wasn't on the same page
From pettiness understandings that got cleared up with age
Two young boys who was ready to mash
Put P
number one
Sell your first stack and cop you a gun
We hear gun shots, we hardly amazed
My man Willie Mays and Santana live on the run
What does it
wanna go out, can you tell me where the spot is)
Well we're partying all night, and everybody is having a good time
(I wanna get nice, I wanna get live
feel like I felt about 2 years ago
My days are the same, they goin' by slow
I don't go to sleep, I'm hearin' the birds cry
I don't give time to haters,
we hot like two 4-5th with gold clips
Ain't none of y'all fuckin' with this
It's hopeless malice on that raw Shawshank
Cut your throat shit
This is
get live, can you tell me where the spot is)
Come on and take me to that place
Where there ain't nothing but happy, happy, happy, happy
Happy
wanna go out, can you tell me where the spot is)
Well we're partying all night, and everybody is having a good time
(I wanna get nice, I wanna get live
No man should live life dreamin’ without execution
Excellence invades souls to do this
Hard work, should not elude us
Instead become congruent
on this album if my man's and them rise
[Method Man]
Now speed it up, uh
[Chorus 2X: Run]
Run really make ya wanna drop, drop
Now wanna make ya go live
get live, can you tell me where the spot is)
Come on and take me to that place
Where there ain't nothing but happy, happy, happy, happy
Happy
far too short to be granted to the modern god David Bowie by this universe
There are two men in my apartment right now cutting up walls with power
“Against All Odds”
Written By: Amber Smoke
Intro:
Push yea ooh
Push aye aye aye aye
Verse 1:
Feel like I’m floating high
But my feet
Übernehmen (Apocalyptic)
Stepp' in die Kabine, baller' Silben in den Beat
Um alle Rekorde der Welt mit einer Single zu brechen
Und by the way 'nen Gruß
they're taking toll
If you've been bad, Lord, I bet you have
And you've not been hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better
In today's music news, the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli
Music insiders are running wild
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Bitch I'm white I don't do no drive by's
She won't talkin' burgers when she said that she want five guys
I only eat pussy so I guess that I got nine lives
Got the squad with me and all they did was gimme love
Foot Locker, twenty deep, a nigga spend a dub
G-Wagen for my bitch, that girl go live it up
might die today, and I know that
Bro nem' got a pole, he got like two straps
Bitch I'm real as hell, and they don't get that
I just hit that hoe, she off
That I was not up to par, when I followed my heart
Granted, my heart was tainted by my mind, I kept on sayin'
Where's the hits? You ain't got none
You
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