Lyrics:
feet don't get tired
Givin' up, what's that?
Life how you're runnin' in circles
Man what trap
We on the go as soon as a feet on the ground
Make contact
could go head up, and I'll fold 'em up slow
There's a gangsta loose, callin all cars
Just left the house in some blue Allstars
Passin' by on them
I just caught a opp walkin' by himself, I don't need a mask
I be on your street by myself, I don't need a pass
Blue tips and that FN, yeah they
(Fony Wallace biotch) nygah
(KAAN3X) yehh, yehh, yehh, yehh, yehh, yehh
Walkin' like I'm ten foot tall
Timb's on my feet
Saw a spider in the street
autographs, spend a gang of G's
While you walkin round broke, nobody knows ya
Lookin' like you smoked a whole sack of doja
Outside in the parking lot in
My eyes are clouded
By the ghosts of a different life
When as a soldier
I fought and cursed and cried
And now they're staring
At a table brown
by your house
Though I know you're not at home
But I can see you
Your brown skin shinin' in the sun
You got your hair combed back and your sunglasses
Up from the ashes, back to the flames
Same old circle, same old fears
Up from the ashes, back to the flames
Burning each other by the fire
Call me Dogan
Never have I ever had a
Thumb with a slogan
Pull it out. Hate.
Burning Chris Charles
They used to call me Mr. Boss
Golden eggs in a box
Green leaves of summer
Turn red in the fall
To brown and to yellow
They fade
And then they have to die
Trapped within the circle time
Parade
Wit That?
R.Kelly N Twista
[Chorus:]
I Can Tell Just By Lookin At Yo Body
When U Walk Up In The Club Girl
That U Got Good Sex
Even Though I Haven't
crime committed
Oatmeal Man says that "America, in 1975
Your president will be a 1913 Ford"
Regressive circle up the wagons to defend
Yourself from
heard
Do you care at all about me walkin' by?
Why so fake that you can't look me in the eye?
Do you care at all or should I disappear?
I'm the monkey in
Let's begin
What where why or when
Will all be explained
Why destruction is a game
See I'm not insane
In fact I'm kind of rational
And pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say, "Are you married?"
We'll say, "No, man
But you can do the job when you're in town"
Later on, we'll conspire
white and rose gold
She walkin' 'round my penthouse in my Versace robe
Since a juvenile I stuck to the G code
Servin' out the kitchen but I never
Put some cash down
Riding round town
Errands in the summer heat
Jerry in the front seat next to me
Sit your ass down
Spencer's couch brown
Dogs climbing
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that bitch tell on me, I'ma do a fuckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
popsicle sticks, poppin' shit
Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin'
My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like this shit's hoppin'
And drip-droppin' in
Our house in a dull grey suburb where the buildings are comin' down
We live in the Polish Catholic Irish part of the town
I'll be waitin' for
writer. Did she marry, did she run, was she old, was she
Young? Was her heart undone by the cruel business of loving? These objects in motion. These objects
'em in the face
Tell hop out that bucket and spray
Tell 'em to make sure they hit
My head and my waist
Tell them to circle round the
Block twice in case
bloodlines
That keep your arms tied behind
Speak your love
Or you won't have a say
As time goes by
My circles they narrow
I am the bullseye
Shot through
We'll pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say, are you married?
We'll say, no man
But you can do the job when you're in town
Later on, we'll conspire
cs
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