Lyrics:
'til the tears, dried up inside me
Revenge to the end, laws in NYC
Got up by the way I used to be
Apartment 5D where dope fiends in the hall
Try your
on an upward trail
Because he's always by my side, he never fails me
Whenever I have a video attack
He's right there by my back keeping me on track
So if I bug
You're clean as a widow woman's washboard, son,
Stick it in the wind
Put the mountains to your back
The great plains on your grille
Time to take
You're clean as a widow woman's washboard, son,
Stick it in the wind
Put the mountains to your back
The great plains on your grille
Time
humans
We like to be wined and dined by candle light
Not being couped up in the house trying to be held up tight
So jazzy jeff and fresh prince don't mean
Rohann..."
"Uh-huh"
"Who used to sell bang"
"Uh-huh"
"DT's found his hand in the back of Bennigans"
"What?"
"In a plastic bag with a note attached"
"Saying
never
Post the notes of exotics
Take you back to the tropics
'Cuz you led on a tour by the three black prophets
We rock this
Slap you wit' the mo
"Don't you wear no black.
Go to Saint Louis, you can win him back."
Help me to Cairo, make Saint Louis by maself,
Git to Cairo, find ma old friend
6 in the morning, police at my door
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor
Out my back window I make a escape
Don't even get a chance
never
Post the notes of exotics
Take you back to the tropics
'Cuz you led on a tour by the three black prophets
We rock this
Slap you wit' the mo
a movie
I got Angie, Jeff got Tina
Ready Rock got some girl I've never seen in my life
That was alright though, ''cause lady was chill
Then we dipped
One by one.... turkey bags
tha lick good... you better get that cash.. rent on tha back.. boy... better move like flash
On the drill you better
on haunted hill
Every time you walk by your back get a chill
Let's peel, who want to talk rap skills
I spit like a semi-automatic to the grill
Elbow
really care (Jeff Dahmer)
I don't, i don't really care (damn)
Ngiyintwana encane who just pulled up in the game and got them OG's shaking
I'm kinda
a sleeping child
Linden tree at the end of springtime
In your smile and embrace
In my soul like Jeff's Grace
The magic of that day
We try so hard to go back
Monday night, you know things change with time
Magic City back lookin' like '89
All the homies on the Southside up in the Ritz (woo)
Tuesday night,
they grave
Jones Girls, Emotions singin' back in our day
Dilla dudes still bitin', they wish to be like you
Producer extraordinaires, knowing their
[Pops]
Hey, hey old bean
And you to baby sweetness
Yeah, this is Pops, and I'm back in the studio
And I didn't have to break in this time
I'm
shit down in NYC
Phony rappers who do not write
Phony rappers who do not excite
Phony rappers, you know they type
Phony rappers, check it
It seems
nonstop to the NYC
Warren G, with the gangsta three's, oooh wee!
[Warren G]
And the win, on the 7-10 southbound
Duece and gin, getting guzzled down by
with a razor in her mouth, bite down on the back (woo)
Might put some Visine in your drink while you sleep, rip you out a couple racks
I'll get you
just give it up
You tried to beat me in a game that I made up
And by the time you learnt the rules and tried to change your fate
Its too little too late
the visitors
BabyTron, my name ringin' bells like a solicitor
Sittin' back, I don't play games like the commissioner (at all)
Me and Stan in our bag, salt
You can't dig this then man you need a _____
Where's the jam I search like (I'm gonna?)
Find the party kick it like thunder
Back in the day they
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