Lyrics:
un-photographable
Yet, you're my favorite work of art
I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you
on the way I should write
Oh God
Yeah, sounds like a nightmare, if you ask me
Yeah, went from my bedroom to the big leagues
You know how many times that I
of Fame (Maybach Music, ugh)
I let my denim sag, red Louis belt
How can you love me, baby? First, you gotta love yourself
The farewell email (yeah)
Games, or make music, or ride bikes
I think one of the most important things to
My ability to create so much in the
Past 30 years is my desire to play
was Diddy
When it came to the music then she got real picky
From New York, but preferred 2Pac over Biggie
No disrespect to Ms. Wallace, but she liked
You always fill my eyes with tears.
It's like a wind from the other side of the world
Like a far off pack of hounds
Sounds like a whole universe
together, freestylin' on stage
Manhattan and long island, for mike and dave
After that, I was convinced we can do it
Until my man biz jetted and came out
niggaz running from the cops, well I ain't running no mo'
I flip the bird when I swerve, man, FUCK them hoes
I'm crazy my nagga, but uh, I thought y'all
to be wild me and my crew sit back and we smile
Keep piles of pictures filed in case I go senile
Cause some things are just too good to be forgot
Like
talkin' 'bout my nigga Dave
Your man a lil' K, we call that a shit a mini Drac'
He always said I overlooked him, I was starin' straight
These bars go
my mind
Music from Jamaica, all the love that I found
Pull over there's a reason why my soul's unsound
It's you
It's that shit stuck under my
rims crushed like ants eggs
From my fate to where my tims touch my pants legs
We indestructible plus we's magnificent kings
Beat over book by
sweat it?
I'm all into my music cause it's how I make papes
Tryin' to make hits, like Kid Capri makes tapes
Me sweat another? I do my own thing
of that high-and-mighty scenery's
Gonna be leveled to the ground, boy
By a bunch a' them mindless strip mines on the land
[Chorus]
So listen well, my
But it won't be mine
You may hear me laugh
But it won't mean anything
They can play my favorite song
But I won't sing
Why do we drift so far from
a beast
Hop into my wip cops pulled me over
Don't worry bout a thing shorty Mad Child sober
She listen to my music and she loves every verse
Now she's
know all the other stuff from like, "Make the Music"
But yo, but I'd like to dedicate this to, my best friend TJ Swan
My cuz-n, my cousin Cutmaster
In the light, in the dark
In the soul, in ya heart
To the end, from the start
Good music
Shot up in my bones
Deep in my soul
From head to toe, whoa
disrespectin' Biggie
So ya'll that talkin' that
Sound silly lil niggas
I say greatness takes time so
You can't rush me
I ain't from Ohio but nigga my grams
Pictures of Jane
Words and Music By: Justin Busch (justrbusch@yahoo.com) and Dave Tough
V1:
Removing doubts from my mind
Those long days passing by from that door
Like late summer, they slowly fade away
Finding ways through the favorite tune
Removing doubts from my mind
Those long days passing by from that door
Like late summer, they slowly fade away
Finding ways through the favorite tune
on the turntable, I got taps
It started burning up, wires smoking
Had to be the sound coming straight from Oakland
$hort Dog, it's a mack attack
My name is Too
you've ever seen
Ooh, my soul, I love you, baby
- Hey, thank you, thank you.
Here's a thing called Lazy, this is a song from Machine Head, and it's
.jpg/225px-Dave_Brubeck_(1964).jpg "Dave Brubeck")
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