Lyrics:
Knife in my chest
I'm a shade living death
Never fall I'm the best
Just like Blade fuck the rest oh
You can't call me up cos there's no number on my
and the gun in the store
and ignore temptation, sent by the nation
Racial gain causes pain; need a new rep
In your hearts and minds never forget Yusef
Hawkins
Purveyance of the seance
In obeisance
To the spirits ghosts that haunt amiss amie
Winter seems far colder
Without you by my shoulder
Now this year
I'm wide awoke, wake up, I be in a dream
Livin' a nightmare, go halkin' with Stephen King
You work with a butcher knife, be lookin' like Wolverine
I
tomorrow
I'll have you close your eyes so you can't see
And I'll be better by the morning
And you'll be standing right next to me
So I'll be standing in
I don't feel, no
I don't feel at all
From the knife that's in my back
Up to the bullet that's in my head
We fell in love just for one night
I hold
incoherent babble of sleep deprived
walking dead (it was quarter to 4)
headaches, and jet lag. (in the morning)
Took a break in the alley. (can only stand)
I get up at 5 in the morning
Then I tak a Shower 'n I get dressed
Right after that I've breakfast
Ususally a coffe 'n a piece of bread
(And then I
Why can't we say the secret word,
Respect for nothing, fire or flood,
Expect no quarter, no reprieve,
We writhe and grin in our own blood,
No sun
rolls a plane and just gets lost in a flight
Say the doctor can't prescribe the proper meds for affliction
Mama beat up by her man, whipping crack up in
Ooh, hoo
Get up in the morning
'Bout a quarter to nine
Get home in the evenin'
Too tired to make time
Give me the lovin'
I've been waiting for
Ooh, hoo
Get up in the morning
'Bout a quarter to nine
Get home in the evenin'
Too tired to make time
Give me the lovin'
I've been waiting for
wish
The claw machine dream
Weaves huggable plush stuffies
In supernatural color
On a quarter from your mother
crowded in the cage looking hungry
and so I like to be in bed by then
I must have read a while
The latest one by Marilyn French or something in that style
It''s funny, but I had no sense
with my tee on
Beat her in the morning by the kitchen with the tea on
Thirty birds comin' in Atlanta, just like Deon
Nigga wanna argue on the net,
with everything stolen
Now you're hopeless
You ain't gonna make it to the next morning
In those last five seconds where you gave into your demons
In
the morning light
We down here smoking with this Tremé shit
You can tell by the tuba that we got a new hit
Now it's Mardi Gras morning and we down in Tremé
a quarter to five
The days are dangerous
The nights unbearable
Everything's terrible
When you're armed and edible
Here we go here we go
Hiding in hearses
Stay
to madness
Hennessy in me
Is just the spark to magic
Its my time to ball
Im in the rec with patek
You better watch it
Quarter gon' blow up
I know I'm about
run track no quarter back
Two quarter pound on the trap phone
One for the boys on the block
That gone push til the morning
One for the boy in
Earth at My Feet niggas died now I chief twice
One in the morning and another in the afternoon
Like it's a sermon roll that paper past a quarter two
homework and one time they let me sleep behind the Ben and Jerry's counter just for a little bit before I would go to school in the morning. I mean, it was
the voices singing to me,
Keep on, keep on, keep on.
Still in Hollywood!
Oh WOW! Thought I'd be out of here by now.
Still in Hollywood!
My, my I'm
the return
I'm on a spiritual high, smoke that lyrical lime
My cutties keep vanilla shit in the sky
Even if it's laced, I roll piff to get by
The burner
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