Lyrics:
Hook
To all the men woman kids, Little boys and girls.
I'm sending messages of love all across the world.
You can be anything, Just believe in your
the media by sending out
Fraudulent misinformation the reason why I'm
Always so extremely fed up is because of the
Current state of the country i'm
Certain
we're talking serious alcohol here but you don't taste it
because it's a frozen drink, it's bunged in a blender, loads of ice, (unintelligable) banana
the postcard that said 'wish you were here'
Hard to accept that you'll never be near
Sometimes it's hard to want to keep on keeping on
When everyone you've ever
and just figure it out
I'd rather put on a film with you and sit on the couch
But we should get on a plane
Or we'll be missing it now
The way that things
the microphone master
Look, I crash ya, bash ya skull
Fucky with Mally G if you're trying to take a fall
Niggaz talk about killin and never get to it
Fuck
the paper didn't burn and you
Can see the cars look like they were from world war 2
All rusted through
There wasnt enough rubble after the fall
Verse 1: Bizzy Bone
I'm sending a message to warn you imposters
All hating in my business
When I see you I'm a drop you
Get slugged and get drugged
can care less what the fuck they did to Pac
They think he gangster 'cause he shot a cop
But he blew trial for rapin' a bitch
That mean you was out here
I'm just doing a buck down Memory Lane
If I crash, just pick up my brain
Late at night I think about the days that you used to say my name
Wish I
such a lot of money
Would be funny
Oh, I wish I could be like you
Rikky rock'n' roller
Today a new jet plane
Tonight it's a new hotel
You live in
a part of Necromancy
Damn it got to get it done we're going to get the body moving
Grabbing out the pages that you need to put them into order
Sort them
[Cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout.]
Bone thugs-n-harmony. I know you niggas been waitin' for this for a
long time. Well, here it
Youre the quiet type, with keeping to yourself
Though we aint the same from when we were kids
You and I we go together out just adventurin
But sometimes I
Whip I drive? Owned by me, wrists and neck, anti-freeze
Can it be? I'm who you dying to be'
Last of a dying breed, I'm Siamese
Twin pistol shooter
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
a product of faith
I mean did I mention that we're saved by grace
That means God's Riches At Christ Expense
So we can be washed and saved from sins
I was
I’ve gone and I’ve done it
They thought I’d fall and I’d plummet
They wish I’d fallen beneath
While I’m being all the above it
Feet were sore from
that shit back
Pointing glocks out the Cadillac, daring you to spin back
Sneaking guns on the plane, man, it's time to get our shit back
Pop you like
E-Swift is here, I love to steer
my big body Coupe from here to there
I grab a beer, but not in the ride
I pull up to the club and I drink outside
You
dying
And if your plane fell out of the skies
Who would you call with your last goodbyes
Should be so careful who we let fall out of our lives
So
I know there's something in the wake of your smile
I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yea
You've built a love but that love falls apart
Brain tipped out
Drained throughout
Ears cranking the smoking out
Lay by the burning crown love your burial ground
Watching waves crash
My pleasure never
here
2: Clothes Of Sand
Who has dressed you in strange clothes of sand,
Who has taken you far from my land,
Who has said my saying were wrong,
.png/220px-Pink_Floyd,_Wish_You_Were_Here_(1975).png "Wish You Were Here")
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