Lyrics:
things
And when that sack got low, I shave them things
And put 'em right back together, I made them things
Put your sacks in the air if you represent
Well, she's so New York when she's in LA
She won't lose herself in love the way that I did
'Cause she'll call you out, she'll put you in your place
high road)
(High, high road) I'm takin' the
(High, high road)
(Now put your hands up)
(Now put your hands down)
(Now put your hands up, up, up
of lies
John the Revelator, he's a smooth operator
It's time we cut him down to size
Take him by the hand And put him on the stand
Let us hear his
I held your hand little one
And I wouldn't let you run, oh
Then you turned to me
With a look of shame on your face
And your eyes asked
her
'Cause I miss my pretty Fraulein
Fraulein, Fraulein
Look up toward the heavens each night
When the stars seem to shine
By the same stars
on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me
Look, God, it's the same me
And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)
Cuffed up
your fist and not your mouth
This is the black collar song
Put it in your middle finger and sing along
Use your fist and not your mouth
I woke up
struck by lightning
I am a God
So hurry up with my damn massage
In a French-ass restaurant
Hurry up with my damn croissants
I am a God
I am a God
the boy who makes his bed in cold earth and quicklime
[Chorus:]
So stay the hands, arrest the time
Till I am captured by your touch
Blessings I
her
'Cause I miss my pretty Fraulein
Fraulein, Fraulein
Look up toward the heavens each night
When the stars seem to shine
By the same stars
forty-four beneath my head.
Got up next mornin' and I grabbed that gun
Took a shot of cocaine and away I run
Made a good run but I run too slow
They
took the law in my hands
So here I am in the alleyway
A wad of cash in my pants
I get paid by a ten year old
He says he looks up to me
There's
the light
Everybody put your hands up to the sky
And let it rain
Ooh
We can let it rain
Let it rain down silver and gold (oh)
We all want the same
Have your gun by you
'cause niggas will try you
Uh who's sick as me?
Tell the truth, bitch, nobody
And that's real
And as far as my eyes can see
I
Wish I had me a time machine
Oh I float the moon back up in the sky
Put a cork back into that sweet red wine
Put your midnight hair back up
So you
Little triggers that you pull with your tongue
Little triggers, I don't want to be hung up, strung up
When you don't call up
Little sniggers on your
put back
Feels like a cement block my hands are holdin'.
Honey, if it's all the same to you
I'd love to stay right here at least till you walk by
you
I came to have a good time
Let the rhythm deep iside your soul
Let it lead you to the floor, whoa
Put your hands up, bend your knees
Bounce
(If you wanna party, if you, if you wanna party)
Then put your hands up (Put your hands up)
(If you wanna party, if you, if you wanna party)
Then
Hush now child
And don't you cry
Your folks might understand you
By and by
Just move on up
Towards your destination
Though you may find, from
Baby, I blow your mind (spend that)
By all means
(Pussy on) dynamite
(Gimme that) dine on me
Imagine, imagine
Put the studio in the mansion
Pull
We wasn't supposed to make it past twenty-five
Joke's on you, we still alive
Throw your hands up in the sky and say
"We don't care what people say"
[CHORUS:]
Man I run this rap shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls
Get your hands up high, hands
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