Lyrics:
hears the time tick by
He's got cigarettes and coffee
He's got little bean bag ashtrays
He's listenin' to Bonanza, but the clock has got his eye
Players keep playin', haters keep hatin'
So much to say, so little time
For the hood that I pray
Haters I spit you die; slow; die; slow
Wash my
Cool breeze, sheltering trees,
Deep within the glen-
All around, sound, on the ground,
Footsteps fall of little men
Now look wise, from your
dug up more lies than libariens
Here I be Sha the King of the Israelians
Use your little two ears to hear me in
In the meanwhile, Razah reptiles, get
Players keep playin', haters keep hatin'
So much to say, so little time
For the hood that I pray
Haters I spit you die; slow; die; slow
Wash my
I can see the way I'm bound
Looking north headed south
The devil, he don't care which road I take
I've been runnin' long enough
Can see your hand
to find the one with the biggest booty (Oh..damn!)
Bathing suits, tight bikinis
No alcohol, 'cause i'm a little too young to drink
Got the crib
finally understand
It's all out of my hands
I lived way longer than they said I would
So now I'm taking all your love
Like an experimental drug
Come by
day
With this ring we go our way
For better or worse I take thee wed
By your hand I will be led
Through the years we'll live in bliss
Life will
your hand and don't try to flam
Or front like a stunt who lost her cunt
I only hit grand slams, never will I bunt
Bases are loaded, bottom
blow your hands off, before the first show
Punk Rock Ambulance!! get me down
Punk Rock Ambulance!! we start to frown
Punk Rock Ambulance!! get him up
count on any reprieve
The hands of the helpless are raised
Your dead little secrets are praised
The people stand dumbstruck and dazed
By the inches
We've paid you to put us
In the palm of your hand
So take your little toys
And get outta here
Don't want to live in fear
Washington
You're no fun,
hand, there were some roses
On his lips, there was a prayer
On a stone, these words were written
'Your soul is God's, your mem'ry mine'
And as I
While back-ups destroy the car
All for a little bid of weed
Dog bite my arm,
Treat me as a murderer
Please let me up
The handcuffs are too tight
and catching flies
Little known her throat has time
What's it matter, games are forever
Tries to the singer of the book she writes
Boredom is a crime
Now
Her daddy lost most everything
On horses, whiskey, and wedding rings
A little work and luck my friend
I'm gonna buy that mountain back again
is how I feel daddy
You look a little baddy your fun's alone
I watch flicks, stretched out in a bungalow
And you found out you hon's a hoe
Livin'
Yet tearing at us We will know that this is a disappointment Every little detail ruined by your cold hate This is disappointment And I promise this
instead I'll stay inside
Undisturbed by the far off sound of your breathing
Guess we're our fathers children after all
You've gotta gun in your hand that
like you know you should, Take my hand, you know it all
good, NESIAN STYLE got your gurl calling my name, With
beats so PHAT, somebody call JENNY
a little tree
You will stop thinkin' 'bout
The fear love induces
When I hear from you, when I know about your research
I feel myself powerless
In my hands
you walk on the bones of your brothers' broken homes
Knowing how karma's cold hand grips at your throat?
I've been trapped beneath the soil
Fuck around, they take your son
My niggas had the right to run
We twist our fingers into guns
They get torn apart by the son
You can't thrive
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