Search results for 'buried in the grave multimedia track by all sons daughters' Page #16

U Know I Love U

Killer Mike

Monster

2003

Learned to suck good dick by fuckin' thugs
A nigga can't teach you, spread like a track meet
Breaking D-boys, MCs, and athletes, but not me
Told you from

U Know I Love U

Killer Mike

Monster [Clean]

2003

Learned to suck good dick by fuckin' thugs
A nigga can't teach you, spread like a track meet
Breaking D-boys, MCs, and athletes, but not me
Told you from

helps me think
I don't know I don't ask

It helps me focus

I tell my son to keep his grades in the scope of his rifle
And I know one day my daughter

rifle
And I know one day my daughter could win American Idol
(I see you girl)
I try to lead by example, that comparison's vital
Yeah, I got skeletons in

by this hip hop rage 
When this hip hop cage
Still ran by the man in the maze 
Old heads searchin for the peace that we came with 
Preaching out

If I had a dollar for all of y'all

That wanna see me in my grave

I could just pack up and move away

And spend the rest of my days getting paid

If I

all the people in my circle
Without them I'd be six feet down in the dirt ohhh
And I know you with Aunty Trish so tell her I said hi
I'm looking

try to murk you
Run the series, no commercial, my game is Universal
When I say I'm ALL EN, I'm going in, like a curfew
Respect who I'm supposed to, how

you buried
He asks about you every time we pass the cemetery
We pulled in he picked a flower for you very carefully
Sat it on your grave and said "for

Dear Son
I thought I'd write back
I Made you in 9-2
And you're still on that right track
Proud of you and how you handle my tests
And every time you come

What can I do?
I know that I'm sick
And never follow through
But I don't think
I'll ever ever please you
It's all my fault
Now we're buried in water
Lead

Imperfect Flower

Quando Rondo

From the Neighborhood to the Stage

2019

They throwin' dirt on top my name, I got no love for these bitches
Fuck all the cameras and the fame, I came in for the riches
This Crip shit runnin'

Peter Crouch
So when I die make sure I'm buried in CPT
But I won't lose until I rap with Coopygg

Live and dying in my hometown, everything around me all

at an early age
What a shame they die young
Lie in an early grave
That's the game
Way of life where I was raised at
Corner stores and waves cap and train tracks

unstoppable
Believeing in crap tracks must be biological

Ya gotta face facts
I'm hear to take rap back
With no caps except
When i state that your all trash
You

tell my kids I found America, too
I'ma tell my son I was the first President
I'ma tell my daughter City Girls hoes
I'ma tell my son sellin' dope is goals

I hope my family outlive me
I hope my name is carried
By sons and daughters, a vision
Before its gone and buried
26 years and counting down
'Til I see

Bonet
Everything paid for I ain't got no leases open
Engineering tracks with my daughter and my niece up on it
Like Bitch
Don't ask where I been

Picture's pixelated pieces of paper
Flipped through the
Scriptures pages proof is in them
The Son who created the moon
Stars the Jew convicted for

As I scribe these words to illustrate my story 
Take a walk in my shoes doubt if you will 
Product of Baltimore 
Son of Tiny and Theodore 
Learned

Penitentiary and bein dead a mothafucka

Man, I'm Carolina, stand on me
Straddle the boy i look hard up at my son
And the south at my daughter
Sink into my

Blood moon in the black sky
Broken wasteland burned dry
No such thing as the morning light. Buried by the plight of the night
Physical wonders are

it's
Getting hard to boss around
Relationships they ain't the
Healthiest a few that's safe and sound
My sons room in good shape
He hardly is allowed I'm

Can't keep me hanging on
I wonder what they'd say
Over my grave
Would it have been enough
To change my mind
And make me stay
If I was buried
Deep inside