lose myself in a daydream Where I stand and say Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out Of the church at the back door Don't wait
You niggaz ain't know about a Robb Report 'Bout a high speed Porsche, i.e. You niggaz ain't know how to floss 'til I came through the door Like 'Eric
keep her wet Keys open doors so I gotta keep a set Everybody knows I'ma a lot of people's threats Biggie smalls in the flesh livin' life after my death
foolish to try to kill me with songs? What the fuck are they, Lauryn? You killing me softly, you talk me to death Only thing you can do to 'em, I open the door
Try to fight it, try to deny it Stupid you will feel, what I do, I do at will Shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill Half a breath left on my death
was before If we were flowers, we would worship the sun, so why not now? This high is shining brightly, brighter than before As the door was open wide
door was open wide There inside was a diamond chair Where I sat when I was young I wrote down the words Only when the young at heart Can enter the real
go so very wrong, sitting on your pity Couldn't even split, it's a two way tour Too late now, the devil's knockin' at my door Every night is a Saturday
break Why you ain't stackin' instead of tryin' to be fly? Why is rattin' at an all time high? Why are you even alive? Why they kill Tupac n' Chris? Why at
foul evil deed I had done Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there I had but one chance and that was to run Out through the back door of
and they laugh at this fool of a man through the stone fortress windows and the bell tolls on (unclean) and many deaths and many days later many tears
me with? I am waiting here for more I am waiting by your door I am waiting on your back steps I am waiting in my car I am waiting at this bar I am waiting
O, Death O, Death Won't you spare me over til another year Well what is this that I can't see With ice cold hands takin' hold of me Well I am death,
He starin' at me hard Two of his mans with him, I got to hit 'em I'm reachin' for my Roscoe, cocked it back on and get my blast on At the gas station
No discussion is the principle, we bustin' it's the end of you Now we knockin' on your mama door Like we cam to fix the sink, my kind of war Death,
for my fries?" Well he looks at me And I look at him And he looks at me And I look at him And he looks at me And I look at him And he says, "I'm sorry
Make 'em runny, honey Doilies, doilies, where have all the doilies gone? Roses will whither and die Along with the lace and the lies Nothing is nicer than death At
will fly If that thing ever hit the ground Slim was so pleased when I had eased Into his trap of death He had slammed the door but I said no more And