know we?ve been down that road What seems a thousand times before My back to a closing door And my eyes to the seasons That roll out underneath my heels
owned Black head to toe with the Louis V. holster Straight gangster shit, I match my four-door Porsche [Hook] (Birdman) Give me my tool Die for my
gone It's gone, it's gone, gone I can't feel it I can't feel it Must've found a way out my back door Must've run away out my back door Because it's gone
I'm gonna cruise past ya Yo money, don't chump yourself Put that shit back on the shelf Light rays blazin' You're out of phase and my crew's amazin'
'll call down thunder and speak the same And my work fills the sky with flame And might and glory gonna be my name And men gonna light my way My time
Let my inspiration flow In token rhyme, suggesting rhythm That will not forsake you Till my tale is told and done While the firelight's aglow Strange
sky Is at rest with the ocean And the days go by They go into the seas that have no shores Haunted by that same closed door Looking up at skies on fire
Stranded on the heatwave burning with desire She was on the sidewalk looking for a night light We talked about the real things And drove into the fire
you find When you read my mind Slipping in my faith until I fall He never returned that call Woman, open the door, don't let it sting I wanna breathe that fire
all of my niggas in the back door And let the spot short circuit just like a live wire And give it the niggas because we got the fire All my people
my life a song Where nothing can go wrong As long as we're together I will take away the pain Be your shelter from the rain We can hide together To the door
out the fire that I no longer could control. I was first to see the flashing blinding light of liquid lasing out arms, but my convulsions spread to my
freely Into the light you love so well The tears run red down this mountain Like a faint crimson scar It is the life that you have carved into my soul You inhabit my
my pen, in my hand, one of my trusted friend, friend, hey Open it let's see if we're real, we all suited Beg my pardon to Martin, baby, we ain't marchin
, choke the herb, So come on ride the train, you should ride it, Make sure you bring your Mary Jane, and personal lighter, We keep that fire, fire; baby
don 't know me Nah I ain't your homie If your name aint Em, Ferrari or Tony I like my wheel chromey My Bentley my Rolly My Magnum my forty South Jamaica
my life A new love that comes my way If you could see it through my eyes Through my eyes Through my eyes Through my eyes If you could see it through
one that put the fire on the track I'm the +Ghost+, so I got the hood, +ridin+ on my back Ain't no front door, I'm the one slidin through the back You