Lyrics:
down, down, down
Twice the pride, double the fall
I got it, I got it
I got it down
Time to lead my brand new army on the battleground
Time to stand for
shit
But a meal on my plate
Up for some days
Just to make it okay
Feeling jaded off
Something I can't really say
Pain in my thoughts
Gotta get it off
rough brother,
Word to my grandmother.
I buck you in the head just to let ya know.
Stick you for ya dough, spit on the flo',
Drag it out of ya, bring
those jeans
Got a crease, and it never ceased to amaze me
By the individual hustle, that'd pay me
When I got to provide for my baby, and maybe
I be
gotta carry it home in my teeth for y'all, I will
There is a greater love
Greater than your paper cuts
Greater than the labor suckin' souls
Out
a muther f**kin' ear.
So I can tell you why...
Runnin' With my brothers, headed for the home base.
With a steady pace on the face that just we raced.
with this sheer gift, and so I'm here to share it
I swear it, fuck money, so go ahead and copy this album
Don't sell it, give it your friends for free,
don't even check em
I can't rat on my brothers for cheddar
And my music get better better
Now my bitch gettin wetter and wetter
I can slide on the dot any
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
started pacing in anger by what they did to my brother
Why can't we live in a world where we all love one another
Why them crackers always thinking that
We were born and raised in black and white
One learned to pray, one learned to fight
We were born and raised in black and white
My brother took
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
say that after every album
I'm sittin' here back in Enfield
I been workin' on this thing for like nine months now
I barely left my home, stopped
don't care if he was vulnerable
In a home full of drug abuse and incest
Or allegedly brainwashed by white supremacists
Whatever the case may be for him
low-low's, girl
(Still) takin' my time to perfect the beat
And I still got love for the streets, it's the D.R.E.
I'm representin' for them gangstas all
radio stations say
They not going to play my music
Uh well I'm going to sell it on the streets
In the boot of my car man
A brother has got get to get
the F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S
Your patience I personally admire
'Cause I started out a player now I'm 'bout to have my jersey retired, for real
Girl, I'd trade
I am not impressed by money at all
Patek phillipe moon face it ain't sunny it all
Hit your bitch for and hour now she hungry and sore
Don't call my
[Intro: Dig Dast (Jamel Simmons) {Gold D}]
Yo my nigga Jamel Simmons what the deal nigga?
(Gold D, Dig Dast what's goin down, what's goin down)
or to another,
or to your brother. You're going to have to learn to sing this song, it goes:
Please don't pass me by,
ah you don't have to sing this .. not for
Can-I-Bus, could bust it down pound for pound
My style'll make a thousand mc's bow
Ha ha ha ha ha
You can yah yah yah cha cha cha cha cha all you want
to share a story, this is my story and can't nobody tell it for me
You have well informed me, I am well aware that I don't belong here
You've made that
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