Lyrics:
It's like shit is coming down from the motherfuckin' heavens
It's a new motherfuckin' day
Get down or lay down
Ay yo, turn the fuck up
Ay yo, fuck
comin' from a city that God's forgotten
Fuckin' shitty, what a pity I escaped, watch me blossom
Like the flowers that my mama used to pick in the garden
population
Still remain, cursed generations
Until the end of time
Living day by day by day
Evil in the mirror
There since nineteen forty five
Guilty
me pictures of the Broadway Nights
And I'd send him some homemade wine
But he was killed by a man with a switchblade knife
For forty three dollars,
Oh here I am after all these years
In a little hole in New York City
It's a little room up there
To cover me up by this snow as it falls outside
roaming, walked multiple ways
For forty nights, forty sleeps, yes, multiple days (I tried)
In the desert, no food, water, searching for the answers
But
STICK THE KNIFE IN AND TWIST
Music by Kip Winger and Reb Beach
Lyrics by Kip Winger and Grant Van Dijk
New York City in the dead of night
Searching
40 amp fuse and
The city of losers
Truth got locked
Behind the bars
Prisoner number 804
Blamed and sentenced
For everything and more
Prisoner nr 804
figured that everybody be leavin' here all livin
You standin' to close partna, you askin' too much baby
You need to get way from round me, before our
Where you from nigga?
[Layzie Bone]
Straight from the motherfucking land ah the heartless
Five true thugs from the double glock
Ready ta pop
a shop in the street
Take 40 percent of the p
And then send a 60 for me
You know I’m hungry from morn
I be chasing the bread while you sleep and you
for free
Niggas is rats copping pleas
(Shhh) moving silently
Shawty sucking and fucking the squad
I be ducking and dodging the law
The 40 concealed its
my stomach
Escape from the past where a nigga been haunted
Raised in the jungle with rillas and apes
Watching my back cause this world it aint safe
I
of lemon
This one is the buisineisum
I don't make this drink by the gallon
I make it by the cup, then I'm stylin'
Got KFK, Slaughterhouse and Brother
the city
I did all i can, tryna make yall fans
So i appreciate the ones fuckin wimme
I keep seeing dragonflies mmmm
Flyin by my head mmmm
I keep seeing
missin' me by inches
And they say how do you survive weighin' one-sixty-five
In a city where the skinny niggas die?
Tell Mama, don't cry
Even when
on fresh
And headed into town so it could paint the city red
The pub was poppin’. The club was louder
Forgot his wallet so he snuck by the bouncer
The subs
From forty 0-hio
All the way to Ore-gin
Buddy my fingers are bloody Now I'm Washing-ten
I clown from Brew-york
Down to Mi-ti-ami
I soak up game
Ayo Bin$on got the drip
Hey
From the Mo to the 4, from the Mo to the 4
Where you from, where you from, throw it up, let 'em know
Bingo from the North
in Belize
How foolish was I?
When I fuck her from the back it makes my jewelry fly
How I'm living? I'm spectacular shorty
Every suit is custom made,
em all down on a list, you’re all done from the coast to the ones in the city that I from.
Ask around about this motherfucker CORY CRUSH, from
My life is a top story
I throw a rat from the window of the top story
I don't just grab one brick I cop 40
If it's five of y'all on one brick that's
gotta beat 'em stupid
Only got forty-one seconds just to give a nigga shit
Every second bitch I gotta use it
Some wet a nigga bluer and I cannot
Grab
whiskey, but cold to caress
She slid like a viper from her tooled leather dress
Forty-one thunderer, colt repeater
She's a silver-tongued wonder
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