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And shunned by society. In 1979 he released a double album called
"Plans For Suicide," announced his retirement, and hasan't performed in
Public since he's now
that's bonafide 
Works for me every time I try 
It ain't no science but it gets me by 
It's just a rock 'n roll strategy 
Turn it up
I'm glad that I'm made to rhyme 
When you work, you ain't getting paid for that overtime (damn)
Its only music, media know it, but they blind (that's
to Florida City, Opa-Locka 
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice P-Rhymes rich
peace,
See if we can kill your amnesia by the time I leave,
All mommies I harbor for vouch for me,
Tell 'em bout the time all your mommas couch mommy
I guess you could say I was saved by the beat
On the street, surrounded by sin
I never sell out, and I wouldn't give in
God said: you can win, look
Davis - piano, Big Bill Broonzy - guitar
Willie Dixon sbass and Charles Saunders - drums
March 28, 1947
Album: Complete Recorded Works Vol 5
October 19,
is to make bread or get laid
See my daughter need some shoes and my mom work overtime
So I'm standin' by that stop sign with nickels and them dimes
implosion
Your whole chest and your world caved in
They completely gave in, they just sparks and brave men

Did ya say that?
Record execs wanna push the album
seat
You are what you eat
So what you eatin
Same message to your mind
Be self defeatin
Sick n tired of bein sick
And tired of bein beaten
Saw em drop it
you come around

I remember when I first started to work
And tried to get this job as a label intern
Them n****s was killing me, cause wasn't nobody
work Capone nine

[Streetlife]
We travel in pairs, you got the front, I watch the rear
Got money on my mind this year, by all means
Put an end
Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggaz fucked up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?)
To get on the mic and let my fuckin style run
under smoov shit
cause Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggaz fucked up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?)
To get on the mic and let my
uh-huh '98 c'mon)

N**** no way rap better than, act better, that 
Veteran of rap 
Brung on, motherf***er sung on, run on
Come on, go and have fun on,
seat
You are what you eat
So what you eatin'
Same message to your mind
Be self defeatin'
Sick 'n' tired of bein' sick
And tired of bein' beaten
Welcome back, here we go again
A beautiful girl and some dirty old men
Before we continue the task at hand
Let's go ahead and introduce the band
frustrated cause ain't no more N'Sync, now I'm all out of wack
I'm all out of Backstreet Boys to call out and attack
I'm going all out in this rap shit
under smooth shit
'Cause Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggas fucked up by letting me make an album
(How come, rude boy?)
To get on the mic and let
pray to heaven for a better me
Nights I'm up thinkin' and days I'm up dreamin' 
You were at work I was at play
A n**** wanted you and plus his cake
I
that big dog life
You love to live just like a young'n Weezy by here
And I love to see you do so
I love my Coupe blow on them deuce-o's
I love a cute
"You want power, but you're not big enough
So you steal it piece by piece.
Take it in spoils, and step by step you'll weaken and the power is gone"
a crook n****
But God love us hood n****z

[Chorus]

[Nas]
Day by day by day I sit back and pray
My thugs get packed away, in a maxi-cage
They pa**
I'm Khadafi
Rolling in a six-tre jalopy
They want to give me ten in the pen cause I'm smelling like Hen
My skin is my sin

My S-K-I-N is my S-I-N

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