Lyrics:
and confused
16 year underdog still donning Under-roos
Sorry Busta, I know my flow sounds used
Written and directed by the likes of John Hughes
Recycled
Leave for the country let the day begin
I carry my share of original sin
I'm writing you a letter from a telephone
Sign it messenger man in
pretended that I grew up
Mama said, I got a letter today
Says you've cut 187 out of 190 days
Mama said, we've noticed lately
You have no interest in gainful
and the boy Mike D
Playa haters, wanna know who I be
The capital letters, F-A to the T
Coming down slow, in my candy red drop
Everybody looking at me, but
featuring Big Punisher KRS One
[KRS One] Ha ha. Never fear. KRS!
Verse one: KRS One
I'd rather have a hundred thousand true heads by me
Than
keep askin me (R?dd, what you writin?)
A letter to the posse who comin in here fightin
So like dope dealer would say
You shortstop, my customer get
of thunder and rain*}
[Threat]
When it rain it pours, it lightning and it thunders like a storm
and that's when they start transformin
He sent a letter
Twenty-six letters than Ro, if you ain't know now you know
From Ridgemont Four to Akapoko, I'm gripping grain in my flame
Sunday morning pulling out my
I don't want your rambling letters
Don't want your picture in a frame
All I want is you in person
Won't you let me change your name
on the weekend talked your way out of a first date.
Said your uncle was famous, by then it was too late.
Spit shine your black luck now, baby.
Fall asleep
have butterflies soon,
Fumbling round in the dark with a flashlight.
No need to be uncalm we'll, leave it by the phone.
A message you can
I haven't received a letter today
I hope for tomorrow that one's on its way
I have been dreamin' what you would say
Your arms reachin' for me
When you laid like a wolf
With your head on my lap
I felt like one of those portraits
Of women protected by a beast on a chain
They look so
Dear ........
Thanks for your letter. Sounds like your living life the way you
wanted. And that makes me smile. No I hadn't heard Bjorn Borg
a butterfly then crucify the beat
Okay, let's switch to role-play, i'll be the court case you be O.J.
Apply the pressure, right to the letter on the probate
My
Or the mind dreaming of a perfect freedom
Not only while you're sleeping
It's a zero-sum game
By the wrong name
Writing letters to the past
As if you
Houdini the god
I know that you saw all that shit from the gate
By the way that I been ripping these bars
H.N letter I to the C
Yeah that's what you call
(Singing by Ronnie Spencer)
Why you peepin me
Everybody knows that I'm a G
Hey, Hey, she's peepin me, she's peepin me
Why you peepin me
Everybody knows that
have lived with this curse
My vocabulary was stunted at birth
By a witchdoctor from over the seas
Casting a strange voodoo magic on me
Now when I speak,
Yeah, Who gonna equal this, none of them count
The sum's the whole of their parts so no point in interrupting 'em now
They just divide themselves by
crimes are cheaper by the dozen, and mothers scream out in the night
What you planning on to do here, cotton candy, jesus Christ!
Ch
Oh united states
have any money, but it never crossed our minds
We grew to share and we were happy there just watching the years go by
Until one day I come home there
perfect strangers
We pass on by unaware of earth or sky
Everybody's got so much more to do
Are we living in paradise?
Where is the freedom?
Do we have
miracles, but look on the bright side
When you're in a hurry nothing happens fast
Stand by your beliefs because your star is genuine
Look towards the future,
_(cropped).jpg/300px-Newsboys_2011_(5725453448)_(cropped).jpg "Newsboys")
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