I'm buyin' Is it any wonder I'm not the president? DENNIS I'd vote for you, Stacee. STACEE Is it any wonder I'm null and void? DENNIS I don't even
Either way it ends in disappointment Is it worth it, to fear me? Make me into a monster Stop sleeping, start screaming before this sunlight come with me I
wanna buy ki's But I don't sell weight, I sell hits Druggin your mind with em one at a time I hit em up with a couple of bars I'm breakin mc's up like
the story I invented?! I cut a scar through my face with a knife More than a withness when Kennedy died Fused the absinth for charles baudelaire I was
of men My nice guy routine is wearing thin I received a beating at the foreign meeting I lied but you stayed And when I'm gettin' home Oh, I was so
s a handsaw Man naw I leave paintbrushes bleedin Busy describing what I'm a paint when I'm a paint but why am I painting? I'm table oasis with no places
need mistament Call me Mista Bent I'm at where your sister went Intelligent, used to write and be well spoke Now all a nigga wanna do is fight and sell, tell a
I start to inhale it Now I'm feeling fine, I'm really feeling fine I dropped me a eight, in a thunderberg wine Got a nigga feeling like, I lost my dog
I will walk even after I'm dead, I will bring the dead to life When they put a price on your head, say goodbye to your wonderful life I have seen the
wealth, well I'll keep it to myself But I'm always willing to share the firepower on the shelf I'm shiny star spanglin, ding-a-ling danglin Luda the sheet
no smile wasn't born friendly Born with a thorn in me, I'm scorned so I'm pourin' Remi I'm thinkin' that's boys feel me, but boys is avoidin' me Oh, got
Now I'm playin' when the game is on Y'all think y'all bangin' but y'all ain't as strong My pop a thug I'm a son of a blood with blue Gators on The record
for him to be We leave tomorrow just human cargo Getting Led x3 Wise to protect us No one is precious Getting Led x3 Life was a monster I'm glad
politic and tap the power Ain't nobody all that jolly at your happy hour But I don't want to go home yet So I'm gonna talk to my cigarette And that television
who crawl to the mall With a bad toupee and a face like he authored a law; Pace like he mourning a loss Right hand on a can of worms Left full of gold
the headlines have said This man is a monster, a vermin at best You don't give a fuck that I'm a rat Give a fuck that I'm a rat Here lie my darkest passengers