Lyrics:
in a hopeless place
Shine a light through an open door
Love and life I will divide
Turn away 'cause I need you more
Feel the heartbeat in my mind
Tool
I'm real nigga, you so full
World tours, and you local
All you say this shit on the menu
Give me large fries and I’ll be cool
Put your hands down by
to take a hit
I've become interpretive
Tell me what you make of it
Tell me what you make of that
When I take it, never taken back
They taken back, by my
mashed it
(We popped up & pop, pop, pop &)
I'm sorry Miss Jackson
1st Verse: Peter Labeaud
Nigga,
You play my brother
You playing with me,
Don't ever
And it'll be a long time, before
You ever see me again, me again
They want me, hold my head in shame
So I hold 'em on, holding hands in vain
Covers
Baby
I got so much on my mind, I don't know what to say
When I look into your eyes, Girl you know that I Love you
Baby hold my hand, Baby hold me tight
motherfucker, you ain't gotta like me
How you stuntin' these hoes?
Need to talk what you know
And stop talkin' 'bout who I'm sticking and licking
Just mad it
motherfucker, you ain't gotta like me
How you stuntin' these hoes?
Need to talk what you know
And stop talkin' 'bout who I'm sticking and licking
Just mad it
Yesterday, feel me, one, three
I’m new to this, give me some time
I need to make my rhyme feel out the beat
You gotta move your feet
I gotta move
And the Catholic don't hate uh
I'm the savior
Spit it like Satan, Hell you forsaken
Cooking motherfuckers in my apron, DAMN!
Murda known for spitting raw bars
up negro
70's men with vices, heavily pay the prices
If I was a drunk would you hold me baby
If I was a gambling man would you hold me baby
If I was
my nigga, let me ask this question
When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?
When shit hit the fan (one two, one two)
Uh when shit hit the fan,
All I ever wanted was a bag of coal
So I could warm us up cause it's been getting cold
You can hold my hand don't let ya fingers freeze
A home that's
move from left to right (Ayy)
Ms. Jackson
Miss Miss Jackson
Swayed by your dance moves
As you groove to my vibe
I can see the light
As you filled with
And it'll be a long time, before you ever see me again, me again
They want me, hold my head in shame
So I hold 'em on, holding hands in vain
And it'll be a long time, before
You ever see me again, me again
They want me, hold my head in shame
So I hold 'em on, holding hands in vain
Covers
it
She just give me what I want because I need it, need it
I'm on that Michael Jackson shit, I wanna beat it, beat it
I love my wife, I need my wife
I
trust
If ya bands is up
A man in some hand-me downs will
Be like "Hands is up" ante up
If I don't win then my family fucked
And I was told
"Don't hold ya
how you play yourself
Thievery stealth
Fiendin for wealth plus a meal ticket
Blood in my hand I feel wicked
Hell’s dwindlin live by the minute within
I don't need designer I feel like I'm Soulja my swag on
It's seventeen hundred for the bag, six hundred just for the belt
I ain't even told you my
hand
Or that's your ass
I need my cake
I want my bread
If I don't get I'm gonna bust you
In your head
In your head
I've been hustlin'
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
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