Lyrics:
a little nigga by the name of Chris
Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit (ahh)
Knowing he could rap, no one lent a hand
So he went about his
a little nigga by the name of Chris
Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit (ahh)
Knowing he could rap, no one lent a hand
So he went about his
wasn't nothin' he could do about it, and the judge
Wasn't gonna look at the twenty-seven 8 by 10 colored glossy pictures with
The circles and arrows
to say it crossed my mind
More than just a couple times
That you and I are never gonna die
Spending seven out of 24 hours a day on computers
NO!
Are we
Waist deep in bullshit
Horror scenes in my diary
That's too explicit
Way too personal
I write it off, like I ain't live it
This is real life, so fuck
Revelations
And recognize this mind-numbin' reality of horror
Known as mankind
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
A righteous number of righteous
Revelations
And recognize this mind-numbin' reality of horror
Known as mankind
Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
A righteous number of righteous
Of us so don't expect
The end of the world to come
One day out of the
Blue – it's been happening every
Day for a long time
No one hears you
No one fears you
You are invisible, nothing, trace of belief
You're going blind, dazzeled by
The beauty of the day
Your
and
Picking out a list of things I think are worth reliving
I'm Skipping through the suicides - slipping past the ruined minds of you and I
Tripping up
own story
I AM,165 but God body in hell
A prisoner of his own mind with fallen angels in his cell
I AM,growing every day mind body soul
I AM,the
it's just me & you
24/7 all day we making love
24/7 your body I gotta rub
24/7 I swear I crave your touch
24/7
24/7
This Big shout out to ya ex
I use that
Machete to Butch Cassidy by the way
His two faggot ass sons' names
Is Shane and Cassidy bang! That's blasphemy
That's the main catastrophe
a ten-bob note up his nose
Such a mean old man
Such a mean old man
His sister Pam works in a shop
She never stops, she's a go-getter
Takes him out
to loose, hoping one day my mistakes will make my jewels
I’m praying on my Knees but still nobody sees
The president going to carnivals, twisting his purple
To Al Green To Bring out The Old Days
Wishing OG's Was Still Stuck Into They Old Ways
No Snitches No Bitching Getting Digits By The Hour
Ignore The Phrase
he gon' handle business
See Lil' bro, he ain't with the talkin', put him on a drill and he gon' get it done
Plus, his shorty pregnant bout seven
gave me you number anyway you were on the talcum
Powder, how's about them oranges?
Moved away from home to school with big plans
By day, studied
of money.
Like I say ol' Jack Johnson he was a pugilist,
He was a pugilist by preference and by profession
And one day ol' Jack came walkin' on down by
I flow into my poetry
Words too deep for my diary
My pen is a deft swimmer
It navigates the depths of my turbulent mind
And when the waters withdraw
Know all your flaws, I'll be your diary
Should've told you that I shut down
And I go ghost okay that's my fault
Don't really like showing my feelings
can be touched
Young niggas in the wild life
Criminal mind of a juvenile
Livin' a child life (You can be touched)
Thinkin' he can make his pay
Too in
Six times for six guys know dey gone all ride
Seven in da wrap light
Eight goin all night
Nine times for da nine lives niggas die by
One time for da one
said that you boring
Don't like him anyway he was snoring
You can have his ass back while I'm out touring
Brooklyn, from the seven one eight it goes
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