Lyrics:
hall shit
They prayin' on my motherfuckin' downfall bitch like a drought but
You gon' get this rain like it's May weather
G.O.O.D. Music, Ye weather
pocket buddy
You've got a hole in your jeans
What makes you think they'll take you back to old Saint Paul?
What makes you think they'll take you back
to the brains, you fixin to die, bitch
Huh, in the Mid-south we cannot see ya, may never want to be ya
When you come up out that Chevy with yo draws off
when you start a job may not be passion about it you may not feel you're very skilled at it at the very beginning I'm asking you to give that job 3
and call it quits
Go back to school before I'm swallowed by this dark abyss
But that would be a fuckin' copout
I'm going Paul Walker on the highway with
you could ever be regardless
What I'll never be is flawless, all I'll ever be is honest
Even when I'm gone they're gonna say I brought it
Even when I
people may be more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared disturb
Holding the moon
You gotta be what you are
Because you've had it all and you had seen it all
You may be touched by a star
Holding the moon
You gotta
To refresh a thirsty land
Your Spirit falls when we cry out to You
Lord we come to sing Your praise
Assured that You will hear
May it be a sweet refrain
to pay Paul to survive
Slickem
And that's the way it gotta be
You can sit there bitchin
Bitch I'm getting it
You is not a me
Rolling dices
Sacrifices
blown), too gone (too gone)
Don't know how the hell I'm gettin' home
Hey, snap ya fingers, do ya step
You can do it all by yo' self
Let me see you do
blown), too gone (too gone)
Don't know how the hell I'm gettin' home
Hey, snap ya fingers, do ya step
You can do it all by yo' self
Let me see you do
and your gone
Iced out, chain out, with ya brains out, head on your horn
You (You) know (Know), who (Who) be Keepin' it Gangsta
With a truck full
[Extra verse... written by Noel Paul Stookey]
Show me the famine, show me the frail
Eyes with no future that show how we failed
And I'll show you
the revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be brought
To you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial
mothafuckin' gone
Ain't no signs that I'm stowin',
Though I'm knowin' that I'm wrong, bring it on
Out to get it, I need cash by the stacks
Need a new pair
Bring that back where the beat gone
I'm too hard don't get too scarred
Better run you won't get a peace off'
Things getting hairy I shave off,
I can chew
the youngans, looking up, man just live your life
Cause one day you could be here, and the next you gone, that shit ain't right
I just sit back, roll a blunt,
quite taken in by it all
Till her brother came in the Spring
And he took her back to St. Paul
I don't go down to Jackson
Ain't nothing there but
your man
Somethin' like Kris Parker
My Uzi weigh a ton
Hundred niggas on the track
Then you know I'll be the one
To tell niggas to suck cock
Run and get
gone show
When my trunk unlock pop and show
You already know
Paint dripping off the door
Not engaged with no lady
Fall in love with em no
You may think
Ooowee
AMG had some gas
Hmm hmm hmm
Ayyy
I think Ima change my name
To Swill Yamaguchi
I be skating anythang and everythang
And you could tell by how
got conned
By the blonde dude who said "I got you"
I got a plant named "Bartholomew" a name that
Probably none of you have as the first or the last
niggas and me releasin
Bone and CD's
With money steady increasin
For houlagans like me
Money by all means
Smokers gone pay for daytons
Smokin on collard
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