All I can do is fight Even if I know you're right All I can do is fight Pretty fingers, holding fast Maybe it's your violent past Maybe it's your violent
So she waits on the edges of a mattress what it takes to get a bad mess out of a bad dress when she sings it's like a blue dove on a whipping post when
I've spent a lot of time Good people Trying to make it rhyme Good people It gave my mind a little place to hide If you don't like my lines Good
You be my charlie and i can be your george let's bury the hatchet like the beatles and the stones they'll play our songs forever on the radio let's
We took our pills It changed the world We had our fill But when we realized That we were dragonflies We knew we had to try To find a way to get more
Our bodies break And the blood just spills and spills But here we sit debating that It's just a shame My hand just kills and kills There's gotta be
Dust on the window Sun's darkened angle Write your initials with mine By this time tomorrow I'll be just one day closer One sunset further behind In
he worth Yo he sucked his thumb, smooth for the kid laced with the big guns Stain to my Baltimore niggas that he on the run Plus he ill in the drums,
soft nigga on this evening's news Rap beef, street beef, breeze through crews Freeze, handguns, machine guns {"Put some money on it"} I don't even need guns
in this rap game One of my hobbies is beef, do that for pleasure It's nothin' to bust a head, put a few wholes in ya sweater Never get in a situation wit me involvin' guns
people But to feel alone like a tree in a desert Dried up like the skin of a lizard But full of color like the spots of a leopard Drum and bass pull
In The Pot, I'd Rather Eat And Stir Its I Againt The World And I'm Strapped Yeah I Bring All My Guns, Shoot Mothers, Fathers, Babies Damn Black Hand Guns
Pot, I'd Rather Eat And Stir Its I Againt The World And I'm Strapped Yeah I Bring All My Guns, Shoot Mothers, Fathers, Babies Damn Black Hand Guns
say Murda, Bloody Murda, Cash Money Packing the low iron! Head bussa, Wigsplitter one time! Hot Boy$ cummiting crime! Head Bussa, wigsplitter two times! Just feel the heat of me low
can't be saved by a court order I got my sword cross your throat you joke Verse Four: Method Man We on the run with the golden guns, get you numb
I'm cut throat when any track runs, conscious when i smack nuns It's the rough neck that makes Muslims run and pack guns I'm volcanic (VOLCANIC!), the
here, player, that just started See, we fresh with air ones, Lexus and big drums Chips, willie chicks, willie crisp, big fun Ma, you worry none, the minks come with the guns
start See we're fresh with Air One's, Lexus and big drums White shirt, plenty chicks, plenty Kris, big fun Ma, you worry none, the minks come with the guns