Lyrics:
stay
Its hard for me not say
Ah can't breath
Ah can't breath
Ah can't breath
Oh
On a highway
Hypnotized by sun strokes
Passing by some dead
feel dead, still feel dead
Still feel dead, still feel dead
Yeah, I'm a psycho
I don't know why I'm not like you
So what? I'm a psycho
I don't know
by dialing up the gain
Will the dead write such music
To drive us mortals insane?
Now the dead keep composing music
Oh, it's so sublime
If the dead
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
the County of Dade.)
I got road dogs doin' that 20-to-life,
You try me, and I'm a get 20 tonight.
You think your bitch bad, boy I got 20 alike,
Not
is 2093, time unknown.
The entire crew is dead, and I fear these are my last hours
Whatever you do, do not come knocking
Aw, hell nah, we gotta
with a grin,
And that seems to say: "You may try all day, but you'll never jam me in"?
I'm not a man of the quitting kind, but I never felt so blue
help you out (woah)
Smiling in your face, you turn your back they talk about you
I've been abused by this cold, cold world
Lord I'm going out I'm
the County of Dade.)
I got road dogs doin' that 20-to-life,
You try me, and I'm a get 20 tonight.
You think your bitch bad, boy I got 20 alike,
Not
Dead by tomorrow
Pull up and hop out like who said what?
Pull up and hop out like who said what?
Forty on my hip right by my gut
Put some money
Compounding my fears
This depression on my life
My dead weight through the years
I'm going to break
I've had all that I can take
Endurance wearing thin
scary
Well, for a few minutes June never said one word
And I thought at first that she hadn't heard
Then a shell exploded not two miles away
She sat up
I'm whatever the streets made, the saint
The renegade the chain on the timid slaves
The dead on the corner
The van of the coroner
The ambulance
Now, no land is beyond my claim when the land is seized in the people's name
By evil men who rob and maim, if war is hell, I'm not to blame!
Why, you
many classic's?
Something like Reebok
Or maybe originals we can Adidas
They say I'm best fuck yea they mean it
I'm like Michael Phelps just
Not
cake (cake), and I'm not fake (fake)
So you should strongly consider doin' an about-face
And if not all you gotta say is you wanna get busy
And I'm
homicidal, at least I'm not dead
He puts his gun against my head
“Please help me I'm scared”
I still remember every word he said
Was running from the feds
you till the day I'm dead
'Cause I need you like this hole in my head
I need you like this hole in my head
of weed to keep from goin' under
The federales wanna see me dead
Niggas put prices on my head
Now I got two Rottweilers by me bed, I feed 'em lead
Now
my pockets say stop
Not 'cause they empty I'm just greedy for some mo'
I need some mo' dough I'm a P.I.M.P. fo' sho'
[Chorus]
Well its
Dead crosswords puzzling your delf
See that's what I'm talkin bout
When you take the Johnny Blaze
And you take that game and you plug that here
Evangelist preachers
The ones that take money
For the promise of hope
Well, they are dangerous
I'm not dangerous
Brain washing us
And we're not gonna
knows let down
By the corner there's another one
Reaching out a hand, coming
From a broken man, well
You try to live but he's done trying
Not dead but
dead,
I am falling to pieces,
Hanging on by a thread,
But I'm not left for dead,
Left For Dead!
Take another look and you'll finally see what you thought
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