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know what I mean? It's called My Own Hell. Story about me, and Midwestside, and Hogstyle Records, and people around me, and my wife, and stuff like
But you did, now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga You're all I need To get by You're all (lie together, cry
Grabbin' my crotch and walkin' awkward Somethin' pop off Then I have somethin' to spark with By the bus stop like man I wish somebody'd push me I'mma let
Tattoos Man some people fade away I just take it day by day And hope my friends don't waste away I don't wanna lose my people right now That's every
funky with the heartbeat props, y'all (Heartbeat props!) It's time to get busy with the heartbeat props (We're giving heartbeat props) I give my man
the fashion, this shit came from Tom I came from the mud, this shit took some time I remix the drank and serve it like he blind Put dick in your bitch, that lil'
'm survivin', thus bein' a punchin' bag for those affected It's somethin' that I accepted, it was hard to understand The way things happen, but in the end I
You're all I need To get by (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my
the way down South (YEAH!) I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth bitch (Mike Jones) We can get it crackin if it get to clickin clackin Look
Cause I did it my own way (Did it my own way) All on my lonely (All on my lonely) On stage act a damn fool By the end of the night throwing up in
me my brother don’t you dwell. Just tell them bastards they can go to hell. Tom soon heard the rumors as everybody did. A bank was robbed in Uma by
Put that on my mothers yeah we getting it by any means Yeah we getting it by any means I'm doing so well I'm starting to get enemies I'm really
That way Only way was the music I did studio trapping Came out the problems I didn't wanna be around no madness Can't trust no one Did it on my own
my people on the front lines People, my people are dyin' And we see it all the time Don't know where our future would be If he's not here, how do
in the ocean Smoking cheap weed sipping on cheap vodka You pick your poison down Davey Jones' locker It's rum we be wanting By the tons my consumption
to one knee. Dino Sore flared his nostrils as if to say, "Holy Smokes! I can’t hold it in. You complete me. You’ve always been there for me. You make my
the man known as Jambalaya Jones Wife beaters, cookie eaters, man cheaters, Tom Steeters Men of all sizes and shapes; he did not discriminate Black, white,
what pocket I had left, my handkerchief I'm guilty by affiliation, in many ways gangsta But let me explain something, a paradox if you may I threw all my
in my bag Got blue checks in my DMs I ain't never hit them back Cause my ass fat and they love the way I rap If I left yo ass you would take me back
on Don't wanna look at me y'all crazy Alpha Omega, the NRBO baby I'm so authentic that they don't think your boy did it They must be at their nooders that
I know that Rollie rose gold I know I got your hoe I had to go back to my city one time Tell 'em hatin' niggas that I made it, on God Oh shit, I
nobody sings like Jones I'd take that old kitchen broom up to my room and I'd play it like an old guitar Or sit out on the porch trying to sing like
cried Go home, little boys, get off the court It's a big man's game, you're much too short Too short, my foot, that's just your way Of saying you're
die in my sleep through the ashes I rise, And I storm through the city catch it by surprise, A legend could live but I'm not what they're like, God
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