Lyrics:
And he goes by Tom And he lives in his sorrow
About the life that could have been
He sits and stares out his lonesome desert mansion
Paid in gold from
company bitch call me Jack Tripper
[Chorus]
[Snoop Dogg]
I'm back up in the VIP
In a cloud of smoke
Be poundin' surrounded by all my folks
Give me
the light came from
Legs like a ghost, I still walk
Whole world mushed concrete, feels soft
Blinded by the cameras pop flash
I'm a big fan, shot glass? (Two,
to have my snap so I jack
So I roll wid a big ol' ass clik
Know how WildStyle, Kilo, Never
Beat the system did it clever
All this shit that we endured
Everybody running wild, yeah
Tell me what to do
What the fuck is goin' on?
Well I know, well I know, well I know
So many baby mamas around we
Are
Hill Romello
Camaro driven, I climax from paper
Then ask, "Why is life worth living?"
Is it to hunt for the shit that you want?
To receives great,
They can use they dick for a pencil
I'm known for snatchin' purses
And bombin' churches
I get more pussy by accident than
Most niggas get on purpose
I
together as a whole race
And don't be fed up by the old days
They try to do us like the indians, killin us like wild beast
And show more love for the chinese
Hill Romello
Camaro driven, I climax from paper
Then ask, "Why is life worth living?"
Is it to hunt for the shit that you want?
To receives great,
This song was written by our friend Keith Gattis
An amazing songwriter, singer and guitar slinger
We lost Keith way too soon
He wrote this song
are all singin'
As they drag you by your feet
But the hangman isn't hangin'
So they put you on the street
You go back, Jack
Do it again
Wheel'
watch 'em in them hoods
I always thought living life was easy
Go to school, get a job, yo, it couldn't be me (be me)
So instead, I played my bed
My
night when a woman gets wined and dined and it's no pipin
Remember the crackhead on "New Jack City," the low life one
(Yup!) Well his name Pookie (gyah)
Quick to get the pussy dripping so quit tripping
Like you got a nigga resembling Donnie Simpson
Hoe I'm from the wild wild west fuck them preppy niggas
Life
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah yeah uh
Been always told to keep my head up
But three shakes just don't cut the cake when your
a horn by the side of the road, but he threw it away because of the lies that it told
Happy Jack just sticks to singing and he celebrates the freedom with
if i get fouled ill probubly shoot the teck/
And you can be the next nigga ill shoot to def/
I wild-out,But if i foul out ill shoot the ref/
Im happy
never see the writing on the wall
When the banks collapsed and they gave Jack the sack
He needed other means for getting by
With nowhere else to turn he
Rotisserie Jack, Rotisserie Jack
Whole life he hating himself
Never fit in with anyone else
He didn't know the potential he held
No parents around, no one
don't know what we been on
Don't know how we gettin home
By grace
It was by grace
Little did I know what was right in my face
Shackles to the night life
the jack off hour, girl
You requested it and The Documentary 2 is in your ear
And I am the DJ that is gonna sock some soul to your ass
Not the DJ that can
of my blue eyes
Concernin' the great speckled bird
I didn't know God made honky tonk angels
And went back to the wild side of life
Now gather round and hear the song of good old Jack the Lad
This slippery son ensnared by none, he never could be had
Four times they tried to lock
Spirits rise up and surround me
Will they take my soul tonight
Crisp fall air bellows by me
Ghosts appear by candlelight
Jack o'Lanterns smile, so
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