Lyrics:
gasoline
The church of matches
Grows fat by breathing in the smoke of dreams, it's quite obscene
Books are burning, more each day now
And I pray now,
The church of matches
Grows fat by breathing in the smoke of dreams, it's quite obscene
Books are burning, more each day now
And I pray now, you boys will
yeah
We just be mile high clubbin'
I'm on a thousand miles runnin'
Hit it, go downtown Sunday
Then move it uptown Monday
Don't wanna see you by
jails
In the cell, countin' days in this livin' black hell
Do you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a 12 gauge pump for
be the jumper
12 Gauge I call her rage and love to pump her
Let off a few shots clap clap dump her
And now I'm sitting in my coupe
System banging
And nothing's gonna turn me round
Don't turn around, give it to me straight
I'm on my way and nothing's gonna shake me
I'll hold my ground
Wild horses won't
I'm losing power and I don't know why
Not really sure if I'll live or die
I want to leave but I can't get away
It's a strange sensation
Out
hit nigga this a fucking hit
Send a nigga home full clip,
traumatized by the whole trip
Boatload full of cocaina
Got some wolves 'round and some
yeah
We just be mile high clubbin'
I'm on a thousand miles runnin'
Hit it, go downtown Sunday
Then move it uptown Monday
Don't wanna see you by
getting stronger
Don't you fight it till you've tried it
Do the conga beat
Everybody gather 'round now
let your body feel the heat.
Don't you worry if you
every crime known through the equator
They knew I did it (uh-huh) for havin' blood on my 'gators
My weed'll hit your chest like a double barrel gauge
(that you want it)
I can tell just by the way you push it out and flaunt it, you bad (flaunt it, you bad)
Somethin' like Dirty Diana
Body dope
too popped if yo ass 2 Pac
Cargos with the 12 gauge shotty in it
Plus I still got a crib on Brazil
I ain't never holly that but I
Got a Maserati in it
Even when he makes the rounds
There's been no two ways about it
High summer's got him low down
Checked in to the tiny village by the lakeside
You call me up at six, come 'round, undressing in my house again
Your t-shirt's on the floor, yeah we're undressing in my house again
You know just
While some become pearls.
Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi
Who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops
Kevlar fucking vests
And fucking hollow point rounds
Going on a rampage
With a stolen 12 gauge
Going on a rampage
A bloody fucking rampage
Going
prison, as the world turns
As the world keeps turnin' round and round
(My niggaz grow and grow and grow)
It's gon' be goin' round
(And gettin' dough
jails
In the cell, countin' days in this livin' black hell
Do you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a 12 gauge pump for
while you can, hold me while you can
I'm now skintight
Are you 'round? Come by
Cutie pie, all mine
Attitude, my type
Who could've thought? It's not
had it
Duck behind metal doors
Bullets flying by my head
Everybody better hit the floor
I'm spraying twelve gauge lead
lined up around the block (ooh, 'round the block)
Ain't no tellin' what I might try (ooh, oh)
Way too lit, we back outside
Shake it (shake it), shake
to a mole
It's like a nigga been here before, shit is a bore
My thoughts soar in the AM
Slay them like a machine round the clock with the 12 gauge aim
gonna start it again (start again)
The way she always by the ten
And the men's outside and they can't get in
Damn they're so spectacularly
See so much
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