On the eve of our exile we carve names in the elms To remember our last days of life on the roads In broad daylight we crawl through the trenches To
moon out Niggaz in they trucks creepin' With a fresh box of ecstasy pills for these bitches Yea, team select, please collect, G's connect Thieves nigga direct the trees
to get 'em with game And when I hit 'em with the game I gotta hit em with this damn thang 'Cause it's kill or be killed, never cut slack And if you
flesh No room to rest, pain consumed each breath Shot twice wit her hands up Police questioned but shot before she answered One Panther lost his life, the other
get sugar diabities Sweetie I'm a different species I'll crush your two fingers into a million pieces What the fuck do I be thinkin'? Kill, kill, murder
' bitches out, all they wanna do Is sneak a blunt or two out yo house Try to help us, with a plan guard yo grill and watch yo back Bitches known for showin' other
I buzz From Missouri to Canada, I be keepin' the stamina If you never been a fan of the man, the planet's unanimous Killa Kaz'll fuck anybody, Tech is
all the money All the money Maybe that's right A fat funky fruit with a whole lot of tang A little something called, doing our own thang Breaking the beat others
night painfull screams Made him wake up from his dreams And a mysterious voice Told him that he had no other choice Setting out for the land of disgrace To kill
accelerate at each other To see which one'll swerve first Two blind bandits panic, whose mental capacity holds That of a globe on top of nine other planets
feet I hoed sugar beets outside of Firebaugh I picked the peaches from the Marysville trees They bunked us in a barn just like animals Me and a hundred others
as blades these bars I lay forever the player and never played I slay them bitches I never save, bomb ass trees they get blazed Palm trees we use them
killing me I'm grown but the little boy is still in me We discuss monogamy, polygamy, the I's the probability Your momma ain't feeling me, it stung like a killer
past you will see Not long ago you black they'd hang your ass from a tree But certain things, things change, while some stay the same Some are recluse others
[Black Thought] From the Tunnels in the wee hours of the black morning From The Roots sprout the Foreign Objects family tree This is mad abstract All
loggin' Or the simple sounds you hear in your walkman when joggin' Or toboggan down the hill with a few minutes to kill You flipped in the tape you just barely escaped That tree
to expose my flaws like salt in sores since they cannot be reformed I simply kill 'em by the fours so in other words, nah man, skip the explanation see
can fill it to the rim with the realest and I'm talkin' back when Biggie Smalls was the illest And the boys from Cypress Hill said ?How I Could Just Kill
