Lyrics:
a feature
I was trying to teach you
You ain't wanna ball with me when I was in them bleachers
Never get trapped by an unstable creature
Try to get one up
nappin
Never had it made but they calling me Mr make it happen
Living by the code but the code so confusing
Combination a group of niggas caught up in
for this fate's in
The element of fine print I've read it and overseen
By judgmental pompous ass phonetics, the critic
I'm still the rapper for
a bum searching for eternal slack
Pride, intelligence, motivation: there was nothing that I did not lack
But then I went to see a doctor and he showed
It all seems so strange
The mutes the bums
The dogs with mange, the poor,
Doesn't anybody help themselves anymore
I guess not
Barefoot pregnant women
Well, either you're closing your eyes
To a situation you do not wish to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster
Indicated by
Hey you bum, yeah, you, move over
Get your ass off that Range over
That attitude toward the homeless is exactly what Maureen is protesting
a tower to bum
Torch, a flaming brand, a pyre blazing scourge
Heretics Clad in flames die in silence
It is no doubt the right way
The perfect way to go
It's lonesome away, from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night, where the wild dingoes call
But there's nothing so lonesome, so morbid
It all seems so strange
The mutes the bums
The dogs with mange, the poor,
Doesn't anybody help themselves anymore
I guess not
Barefoot pregnant
screwing up
Torment me with lies in front of my friends
Call me a fucking bum like I'm a con man
Call me a fucking jerk like I'm a rapist
Call me
anymore just wait until your dad gets home and sees what
You have done kicked out of school you've got no job you're a useless
Delinquent bum oh my god
At least he loves his city
Holding court on Taylor Square proper was the man he could become
Lear's Fool is a bum now
With seven holy parcels by his
there's this friend of mine -- he's always by my side
He gives me a place to go when things get bleak
He's always there for me ... He rubs my eyes for me
ain't never had a fifty, you ain't had a hun'
You ain't never had a quarter ticket, lil' dirty bum
I bet I'll have ten M's when I'm thirty-somethin'
watch it in my boxers
Wash myself when my mom yells dress, and just breakfast
Guess it's time to bum with the triumvirate
Love that shit, crushin'
Standin' on the front stoop hangin' out the window
Watchin' all the cars go by, roarin' as the breezes blow
Crazy lady, livin' in a bag
Eatin' outta
women down there too
But that's for rope soap romeo
That bum ain't got a clue
Just for viewin' pleasure
Head down by the pier
Think of all
Runaway... runaway slave (8X)
Verse One: A.G.
Livin in the slums with the bums, the rats and the stray cats
Dogs with the rabies, little babies are
the humbles I was shootin ( ? )
And now my time has come
And now hip-hop's an industry polluted by bums
Posin with guns, they're puffin mad blunts
Aiyo,
a lawyer, not a bum
have you learned you lesson? half your life is spent!"
If I could turn back
time
hit rewind
If I could start all over again....id
a song with
And I got to say I don't see that happening
Rap at the king, come for the crown
Fuck you pay me, I puff puff pound
Grab at the bling, bum
the bum is bound by al
When the charts are fouled
When the crowds go wild
(Wiki)
How did I land? Right in this land
Man-hat-tan
Right were you stand
with the weatherby re-runs
Rent-a-ski beach bum with the broken Oakleys
When he Hang Ten men for the locals only
Rowboat slowly to the Roanoke docks
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