Lyrics:
another
I wouldn't trade, trade Trade, trade, trade
I looked around
My feet stay on the group
I know I'll never find another you
Now your in your arms
{Your silence is my trade}
Lockjaw! (Shut up!) {Your silence is my trade}
Givin' MCs lockjaw! (Shut up!) {Your silence is my trade}
Lockjaw! (Shut
clpha Capital Group, we leadin' the game,
Industry leaders, you know the name.
Our capital, your skill, let's make it rain,
Trade $400K, gettin' 80%
close range
He just pretend, he not with the gang
'Member back then, ask an opp, what he bang
Runnin' from jakes, block hot like I'm Wayne
Spend
Without any training
It's pouring, it's raining
Training or a trade
Hey, you bet I'm afraid
Unepuipped with a skill
But I'm thrilled with
- not too far from the mean differential. You see, the roof has predetermined the limits of ac
tion of any group of packages, but individuals may
He got down out of the cattle truck
In the Amarillo night
He looked up at the Texas sky
And thought of his last ride
He'd trade all his tomorrows
to trust? Who to love?
I been layin' on the rough
Tryin' drugs for a month
Hopin' it'd get me up
{Bridge}
Hopin' it'd make a change
Trade the bus for a Range
Yeah, sounds like a fair trade
(Jean, wake up)
Get rid of all my distractions before I start focusing
Started seeing self improvement, slowly began
a stupor, first to clap your group up
from the Range with the ski rack, or six with the Ruger
Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up
New shit,
a stupor, first to clap your group up
from the Range with the ski rack, or six with the Ruger
Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up
New shit,
rock group for free
Hey, hey, hey all you girls in these industrial towns
I know you're probably gettin' tired of all the local clowns
They never
rock group for free
Hey, hey, hey all you girls in these industrial towns
I know you're probably gettin' tired of all the local clowns
They never
Combined versions from Norman Blake and Doc Watson
A group of jolly cowboys discussing plans at ease
Said one I'll tell you something, boys, if you
It's a cold game
I ain't been one to
Jump in and out of the range
Maybe an old school cynical
Spinning the vision from which I paint
You got
of this trade
Switchblade with a little switch that switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword, a sensai
of this trade
Switchblade with a little switch that switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword, a sensai
On my life, I believe we're tailor made
I should worry if the weather spoils the trade
I'm a crumb
And I'm in your lemonade
Don't ask me
To knock
seein' eye to eye
So we picked up and started a group with some other guys (haha)
This is hip hop (hip hop)
Man, I won't stop
Yo, Big Boi (what up?)
master every trade under the sun
Talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue, nigga
And it weighs a ton
Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun
And I master
Trades
Trades
Trades
Trades
Trades
Trades
Trades
Trades
Redbull to wake myself, still ima f**king Zombie
A cone for mental health, the smoke could
brought down the World Trade Center?
Does anybody else see a problem here?
If the government has nothing to hide
Why are they so afraid to answer a few
nothing
All that heartbreak and mistakes, it ain't all for nothing
I'ma trade that for a Maybach, all-black's how I'm coming
Nights I gave up for
a range like damn thats ahead
All I ever wanted is to stand for the dead
How about the tragedy you see and you read
When you found a group then you turn
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