Lyrics:
game
Arbitrary as the wind blows
It's another way to lay claim
Ain't no cause for blood-thirsting
In a little town so dry
Where the angels dance
it out last Friday night at the only town's disco
Yeah yeah yeah she was looking for a little bit of action
Little girl big titties what a pity
You
Well, I had two weeks of vacation time coming
After working all year down at Big Roy's Heating And Plumbing
So one night when my family the I were
talk of taking the sunshine
Taking their bright eyes away
Maybe make a move for the big time
Watch it get harder every day
They're told by the same
my first album going hard on diss last one diss last one made diss album in 7 days in my home studio blessed by God to be on diss ride i rode da wave
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
a record, check my platinum album
It's not meant for you to do
You even sound wack when you try to check the mic
One, two, one, two
But wait I'm not through,
-o, town-o, town-o,
many a mile to go that night
before he reached the town-o.
He ran till he came to a great big bin
where the ducks and the geese were put
blow by
My eyes stay fixed but the picture's kinda outta focus
I cry a lot but admit to it
Enjoyin' life now but I've been through it
Sometimes I
Hmmhmm outlaw Immortalz, biatch
Syke, Big muthafuckin' Syke aka mussolini
(Outlaw Immortalz)
Yaki Kadafi up in this biatch
Fatal, Komani (Outlaw
Mister Frog went a-courtin, he did ride,
A sword and buckler by his side, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.
He bridled and saddled a big fat snail, uh-huh, uh-huh.
Big time, grey and cold...
forever gone...
She sleeps in town again.
I wear a green old coat
polished by rains fallen in another time
in another
the freaks (let's go)
You can spot us out of town by the way that we walk
The way that we talk, cocky, the state of New York (that's right)
Hot now top down
The streets was infested with drugs, dope peddlers and addicts (yeah)
Gangs have taken over seventy-five percent of our town
As the young youth behavior is
bring? Nothin' but pain and one in your fuckin' brain
Ain't nothin' changed since the album, I'm still wildin'
I'm still violent I've been waitin' for
If you move a little closer now
Then she whispers in my ear
Three big little words, so good that it hurts, I'm a falling for her
Like a shooting star
and let your mind be free
And by the way welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr. Kid Rock (what's up?) can I do my thing
Uh, can I have a little something
album commemorative disc
Cause hip-hop might need us
And in your town, no telling where you might see us
My whole team coming through in tees and wife
witneesed a driveby?
Okay, make sure you have your camcorder ready
to witness the extracurricular activities on blacks by the police,
so you and your
words Big 'Orra! Ah! Now, however you want
to pronounce it, "BIG ORRA" or "big orra", you know, Losfer Words will do. That little lot was released
2nd
Overpopulated but the city is a ghost town
Keep a little real ones with me
When it goes down
Lack of diversity, I think about Sloane now
Only reason I would
Maidstone, Sharon
I went to every wedding in that little town
To see the tears and the kisses
And the pretty lady in the white lace wedding gown
And walking
and a choppa (what else?)
And a desert on a dirt bike (skrrt), VLONE shirt and the Pradas (fresh)
Big nigga fresher than you, fuck you and your stylist (woah)
bless 'em with a little gwop, ha
I keep it rolling, picture me, twirling
The big truck, yukon, my sheep skin showing all the leathers
It's a cold
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