Lyrics:
Shoeshine Johnny's just doin' time
Settin' up shop at the five and dime
Seen a whole lot of miles, got a few more to go
Everyone says he's
A lonely mother gazing out of her window
Staring at a son that she just can't touch.
If at any time he's in a jam she'll be by his side,
But he
A lonely mother gazing out of her window
Staring at a son that she just can't touch.
If at any time he's in a jam she'll be by his side,
But he
hope you save me
School don dey close and guys dem wan parade me
If I no provide her the radar she might forsake me
Cause she thinks that I’m rich from
I buck foos I smokum and I layum payum no respect still got the bayonet
Never bring the static best to get ur automatic reach for ur piece or u end
shit
Any more than no comment, then you're lookin' like a snitch
And if you talk too much, watch your words get twist
(Look), Rule number seven,
'Cos man like jaykae where have you been?
'Cos man like jaykae where have you been?
So first thing's first
Let me start by saying yo RIP to my
G's
say I'm your child
Not to mention, I just made an account
There's no more losses when they're raidin' me now
But I can't lie, though, I been paid for
are the primordial substance that is Chaos
Now no more shapeless and empty as the central fire
Vibrates and floods it with light
The real secret is
I?m on a block sacked up,
Got twomps of kill,
Gurpin' in my 74 Bonneville,
No time to chill,
I?m a grind for real.
What you want?
What you need?
and in a hateful power created by my
father, I'm the hatred one.. I'm the killer! I Am the one who will enslave you all,
I am satan and satan is your
Six, six, six.
God is dead.
God is dead.
No more the scapegoat, evil is transformed.
I rape the sluts and kill the pigs.
Show the masses what
[Book-T]
Yo Yo Niggaz ain't fuckin with this originalist
Spooks ain't bangin like this but more real is this
Un-inventiveness amaze me, say
to heralds
The cure should be simple
Find the core and smoke it out
Seek the heart and putrid flesh
Shall preach no more
When the bridge collapsed
Upon your
many times as a kid I seen you handcuffed by the cops?
You taught us black music, Sam Cooke, The Drifters, The Four Tops
Taught me about boxing, Ray
Head twisted, on the red, by vet bitches
Super fly son, movin my gun, born on the run
More to come, all in one, luxurious fallen on
Notorious baller,
I am the creator of true will
Long have I suffered
Long have I been forced
Blinded by their faith
Laughter resounds no more
I am the son
guess she stole her grand sons cd
Yo momma, tellin you you need to be more like little wyte
Yo daddy, askin you how your gunna pay your bills and get it
in Buffalo
They put up the walls, no more to say
Nobody stopped to ask why it was done
The stream was too far and the rains to high
So into
and the emptiness
Of the days
Passing days
Passing days
Days
Now tell me
Have we gone too far or did we get too close?
Forgive me, Father, I've no son
7L, son there's none parallel
You need a beat to flow to?
You're lucky if your said Hello to
Bitch-ass crab I thought I told you
"Known to be
your denials to your delusions everything you gain you keep los' son
What you not know it's an elusion, so what the hell your doing
He's looking
We've no rights left anymore.
Military science picking the locks
Of a 20th Century Pandora's box.
A father tells a son,
"The army makes a man
don't think you're no freak
But I don't want him hanging around here, girl
His eyes are filled with evil
He's gonna drag you to the depths of hell
His
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