Lyrics:
the hostess with the mostes' on the ball
In the handbag that I'll carry
There's a precious little note
To their highnesses from Harry
Introducing me he
I said grandpa what's this picture here
It's all black and white
It ain't real clear is that you there?
He said yeah, I was eleven
Times were
the nation
From the adults to the younger generation
The black, white, Chinese and even Haitian
Because the music ain't about segregation
It's a harmony
make another Illmatic"
But it's always forward, I'm moving
Never backwards stupid here's another classic
C-notes is falling from the sky
By now
the side of the road
Where the mighty light of God's great mercy fload
There was prayin' shoutin' singin' till the country side was ringin'
Brush arbors by
Well, the good times scratched a laugh
From the lungs of the young men
In a Deadwood saloon, South Dakota afternoon
And the old ones by the door
the junk
Put a sticker on the cover: "X-Rated Funk"
It's just me, you say I won't go far
But I won't stop rapping cause I rap so hard
From here to New
The world by the balls, eatin' out my palm
Every album song I was spazzin'
The fuck out on
And now I'm gettin' frowned and clowned on
But the only one who's
Been that great lately, uh
You know, day by day is really good, uh
You know most of the time
But every once in a while
All hell breaks loose, mom
challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor
Just for a moment I stood there In silence
Shocked by
When you're smiling, there in your attire
Fancy styling
Right here by the fire
Quite beguiling, my, don't you inspire
I'm santarrific if I do say
Te-te-te, Tequila
Tequila
Here we go again and I'm not fussin'
See I'm a French Mexican but I can get with White Russians
At the bar with a drink in my
talking
and showing the way to a stranger
Wining and dining (what a September)
from bags by the river ( I should've worn a sweater)
a sun, sail, song (it's
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
A great dad, but a bad husband (Dad, you said)
Forever be a hero in my eyes (I reply)
But there's always another side
To a good father
A great dad, but
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small
all over the world say their prayers and go to sleep
Knowing that when they wake up, the little fat man with the long white beard
Will have stopped by
to gain a smile
Listen while you hear it
There's no pink in my slip
I reckon that the rhythm and the blues in the rap got me red
While the boys from
With a voice, telling you the bullet's direction
I'm talking murder, but that's another section
I need to explain by keeping my composure
There's no
There is a city by the sea
A gentle company
I don't suppose you want to?
And as it tells its sorry tale
In harrowing detail
Its hollowness
to Missouri to one real exciting trip
Then bang of track was broken smashed by a cannonball
That blew in great divided will the nation stand or fall
All
balling down from heaven
All I know is that these rap niggas dry snitching and telling
That work don't even come like that, fuck is you selling? (huh?)
I
Letters from the 99
Is a collection of stories
Written by me
Mostly on my drives
Along the California HWY 99
To Los Angeles
This album is real
music i wanted
I wanted to remind myself that you
Guys are a group of people who love
Albums you love stories, you love people
And all of us are here for
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