Lyrics:
barbeque, fish and chips?
Tell me, now
They say Cassius barbeque will make
You smack your lips but it's hot, y'all
Doctor Smith work at his home
In his office
murdered her,
Witness the vision first hand plumping master of source of us
[Jim Jones]
By the, grace of Capo, in the moment of silence, in the mist
to do with your clothes or your letters
It'll make a whisper out of you
She took the Oldsmobile out past Condor Avenue
The fairground's lit
A drunk
finna Mike Jones em
Wonder why tho I suppose they lookin over me like I'm Jones-Drew
Oh well man it's so sad how they water down the culture
But I'm
When I get to Warwick Avenue
Meet me by the entrance of the tube
We can talk things over a little a while
Promise me you won't step out of line
[Verse
in the gutter
Got out that jam now it's foreigns with the seats peanut butter
Bitch, it's BYLUG for life, never crossin' my brothers
(Let's go)
Jones (cappo)
Besides I put money on your skull and bones
And keep it low watch what you say up on those fucking phones
Be quiet
Touchdown
And get ya
And trap by, Night
Eight to, Five That's my work, Life
Shout out, Jim Jones We all about, That vamp life
But thank God, That curfew's Over I could, Trap
he's all over TV, down-talkin' the man
Who literally saved my life, like fuck it, I understand
This is business, and this shit just isn't none of my
he's all over TV, down-talkin' the man
Who literally saved my life, like fuck it, I understand
This is business, and this shit just isn't none of my
you're over it
Why you, why you say, "Let go," if you're still holding it?
Just a little bit better at faking it than me, baby
Just a little bit better
transferred from on
Party to the next" You got
A miserable bitch on a
Blog who writes something negative about
You, you read it, and now you're miserable
tears in their eyes
Neither one could speak
Hand in hand, room by room, oh it was everything
Three bedrooms, two baths, one car garage
Front porch with
than a house, it was home sweet home
Where all their dreams came true
302 South Maple Avenue
They're older now and the kids are gone
Talk about
Right where his 'foot' was supposed to be.
Now, billy the mountain, he couldn't believe it!
All those postcards he'd posed for, for over these years,
We smart ain't we?
[Jim Jones]
Sheeit, the heat's in the kitchen, I speak to you listen
The beef if it thicken the heat'll stay clickin, believe that?
lovin' whatcha tryin'a do|Just do it over there, I feel some ? away|I guess what I'm tryin'a say is I ain't got no time to play|I might just die today, I
hit him hours ago, It snowed and it froze over
He’s only 16 so it’s kinda confusing
So much beef in the street, he don’t know who did the shooting
He’s
of funny when you say it all out loud
It's still the reason I pick my friends over you
Windows down blasting Ocean Avenue
All these years later and we still
[Intro: Jim Jones]
Uh-huh, Jones, one-two, one-two
G's up, you know who I am, Jones, the struggle
New York's mine
[Jim Jones:]
Can it be it was all
hope it doesn’t end in sorrow
If you take it now there won’t be nothing left to borrow
Speeding down the high way then we turn the Avenue
Yeah we betting
khaki suit"
Well, one day, up the Avenue
There was a man, surrounded by the Dogg Pound crew
He said ah, "Hear ye! Hear ye! Come one, come all!
nostrils as if to say, "Where?"
The perspiring pastor once again plunged his clammy claws into his now even more empty jockstrap and further emptied it
arch ya back
And make it do what it do
Real talk avenue, that is my street
That's where we live, and where we decease
That bruddah ya looking for
You
.JPG/300px-2brothersonthe4thfloor_(cropped).JPG "2 Brothers on the 4th Floor")
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