Lyrics:
and I’ll dismiss it
And end your bloodline 'cause we the fittest
Clean off that ting
No feds fi see
Fingerprints on these
Mans on his knees
Begging oh lord
man
Remember them nights I was robbing
Now Its wings on my whip and it's blues on my body
Got drip like a faucet
Got hits like I'm rocky
Can't give you
to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear
"He's singing bloody well, you know!" My partner says to me
Then one by one, each German voice
the job done we'll be on our way
For them blue collar boys
Out in them wheatfields, , down in them mines or pushin them windshields
Haulin round the country
Brotha lynch hung: Are you fuckin serious, well a fuck it
I'mma do this then , fuck it shoots himself
Lynch, Lynch u there alright man ah yeah
shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
We'll
Make a man of him
Put him to trade
Teach him
To play monopoly and
To sing in the rain.
The poet
them pew thighs
Supersized by fries, I pimp a lot of bitches
but I'd rather save yo' lives
I'm from a place where they hung black folks
Where a bird can
hope for you
You just got to get up and dance
cnd maybe read some books by Malcolm Nance.
Frank hung up and that's the last I heard so I nursed some
your crown
And then out of the blue, you would cut me down
Cut me down
But when you hung up the phone and you blocked my number
I was alone in
lose their possessions and folks are leaving town
Bertha Mason shook, it broke it
Then she hung it on a wall
Says, "You're dancin' with whom they tell
night city
Money, money, money
Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm
Summer night city
Money, money, money
In the rich man's world
Den går på band!
Kan
in blue throw on they flashing lights
By now I'm dead weight, i can't keep my head straight
I stop the car, but nobody a approaches, this the end
His heart, a multi-unit foreclosed house
Discipline instilled by his grandmother
Memory, a disappointed child
Clear window-well, a dim basement, lit
check
I'm from where the hammer's rung, news cameras never come
You and your mans hung in every verse in your rhyme
Where the grams was slung, niggas
BLUES
THERE'S A GROWN MAN, SWEATIN' METHADONE
KILLIN' ME
GO DOWN THE ROAD
WELL, GO DOWN THE ROAD FROM HERE AND DO NOT LOSE THE WAY
GOT DAMN BLUES
safety and well being is of premier priority here at the Triple S
You will be notified when our conditions change
Gibbs, what's up, man? This is your
what we'll do right now is read these haikus, think for a bit
And then when we go back, uh, to the
You know, the jokes and the laughing
They'll have
and
Black math tongue
Free speech has been reduced to a
20% off coupon
Red and white washed out
By a special blue light
Always on
The original sin was
I'm not pointin', snitchin', rattin'
Givin' a statement i'm the mind
Body and soul of this nigga you get mavin
I was raised by the PJ's, hung wit
I been doing well, well without you
I tell that to myself, but it's not true
Been right in my blues but sadly no clues
I been doing well, man no lies
I never thought there'd come a day that I would write this
I mean, how the f**k do you describe it
My uncle hung himself and my cousin had to find
And the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home?'
'Son, I don't know when
But we'll get together then
You know we'll have a good
it, and who mated
Was Jesus God-incarnated, or man-imaginated?
God said He made the earth, just by speakin', of us sleepin'
Even still He took
Too much goin' on at one time, I'm dumb high
Seen in the peripheral, he jump tryna run by
His man in a whip, threw the clip and my gun back
Piece
.jpg/265px-William_Hung_(cropped).jpg "William Hung")
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