Lyrics:
on the corner-and wiping his shoes off (Livin' down in a thousand watt town) The businessmen fill up-the Midway cafe (Livin' down in a thousand watt town) Papa Dave's
figures up...THE GIG IS UP! Before, I was gonna keep it to myself, but now, I think I'm a little bothered now. Yeah I'm bothered, I'm bouta act up.Soon
switch from the tower Its 7 foot tall niggas prone to brawl When you up.the thang on em They ain't with it at all Man they serving knockoffs It ain't
like it on my Fendi(on my Fendi yeah) Smooth criminal the way she pull up on me yeah Smooth criminal the way she pull up(the way you pulling up) Yeah
up,the scream of the bike You must step aside I'm a wicked machine in the night I'm livin',I'm ridin' Addicted to leather and speed Live fast - Die young
these niggas now in 98 no time to graze niggas cause they might tell white judges, like the icegrill hoes set you up-the same way that Pac and Mike fell
blistered up/The sun is beating me down
Slept in the bed of my truck|Because I couldn't give up|The chance to drink you off my mind|You Said love it or leave it|Man I didn't need it|So I
Pessimists are all aroundIt's almost like they run this townThe tax is upThe dow is down againBut as we pass our daysYou know I'm almost never
up|Gonna bottle it up||The farther that I go it's all the same|Choking on confusion from the game|A watercolor painting in the rain|All the edges are
Know you wanna ride Ya You Reading my mind dont wanna anytime know you’re F ree to decline If you wanna turn it up Go on and crank up-the speed And hop
ur head of clutch tuggy ur not tuggy see how i just nearly just fucked upthe bar then im fucking buzzin im rushin cuzzy whos cuzzy im rushin cuzzy il
up,the way you fuck up everybody,every day,who look at you, and think they have some guiding star, to shine their way, but politics is a stupid game, it
In the snow,angel lay.Mouths join in the cold. Whispers lie as they say you will never go. Memories,empty sheets,they will smother me. Wrap me up,the
the world just me and myself. In back the back of the cab, son bled to death. It's fucked up he was a good nigga... [Word up..the street stories..know what
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