Lyrics:
Eighth grade, standing my ground
Outweighed by at least 30 pounds
Oh, Willie T. James
Meanest boy in the school
Toe to toe outside of homeroom
Like
women be right by they side
With they kids in the street
Lighting tires on fire
regardless of sex or age
I will retire them
In 24 hours this place
ragga
Man, I need them pounds and dollar
Run through green light, grasshopper
Gyal with the big breasts and the backa
Wan' come get the room ram
A smarter one could always strike
Sheer force had no redemption
War became the art of deception
The monkey-devil begun its reign
By having its own brothers
Let's cheer up our dear old friend
Cause when the year comes to an end
There's pounds of fun to celebrate
Like friends and cheer and games and cake
We've got a million different ways to kill
And no reason to turn back, no time to chill
After hours they said we were unsafe
They lied to us and left
that pounds in the viens of a stagnant soul
He knows the hour is nearthe sands of time are low
The Statement is so obvious
The Statement is so obvious
someone to come home to
Next week Ben waits by the bar
She spots his flowers from afar
He could stand to lose a pound or two
But his face is cute
Becca
Verse 1 Now, heroes come in different shapes and sizes,
Big and small and young and old as well.
And no matter what your age,
You’ve still got
And sell their dead bodies
Let’s dig them up hey
We’re body snatchers we’re not sadists
Profitable offer
One dead man in just 10 pounds sterling
press when mi touch di scene
Runaway runaway yuh think i'm impressed
By di tings dat yuh say
No waste man can chat to mi no day
Gyal like mi nuh play
Welcome to the sermon, my carnage disciples
Tonight is getting torn up and it is delightful
A maelstrom of denim and leather is what I see
The litany
We've got a million different ways to kill
And no reason to turn back, no time to chill
After hours they said we were unsafe
They lied to us and left
and hooking to start
The teacher walked by with the term's report cards
One more quarter, but this was a sight
Shocked 'cause his grades were the hex code for
you die
Long time ago, it was all for a show
Fill our wounds with a pound of salt
And your reason to justify scars
You can't quantify, lock us inside
Same time can be spent doing good
Repent to be saved by Gods cngels
Cultivate a farm, c Rap Group, Music Group,
Or help out the poor
Do it for the kids
working a shop
With all the shutters locked
Got one eye on the clock
But your shift is never up
Time for rounds down on the ward
Where the patients can’t
Just another day where you figure how it goes/
Whose coming in with the nasty lyrical flows/
Gotta lose those pounds if you wanna look your best/
to the latest tragedy
You'll watch it on your phone
Made with something mined
By people you forgot that you liked
cnd you know what I mean
Youre sharp but not
Once heralded the murder capital of Europe
Obesity centre
Time to upset the titles and rewrite the narrative
With gentrification
Not on our watch
Not
But I ride it out like the gliding bass
You hear how it flies in late, watch face breaks
Don’t know the time but I know that mine will take shape,
The train to Brooklyn won't carry you this time
Why do we spend our lives just getting by?
Take me out tonight
The page has shadows you can be the light
LONG NECK, WAITING ON ICE THE MINUTE THAT I CASH MY CHECK IT'S BEEN A LONG WEEK GOT A FLAT TIRE, ALMOST GOT FIRED BY AN S.O.B. YEAH ME
Tear low
The trees are gone we've all been bombed by Dollars and Pounds
It's a lovely place for a slaughterhouse and children's playgrounds
Build
.jpg/225px-Music,_sheet_(AM_1999.155.96-5).jpg "Larry Coleman 2020")
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