Lyrics:
moments
Go out of your zone
You're acting all different
Through periods of
From heaven to hell
Still an angel, no hope
From sky to the dirt
You
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November 13, 1997
The beginning of my holiday away from Heaven
I'm a tall guy with dark brown hair and large eyes
Since I was little,
it off the muscle I ain't even have to flex yet
Riding with my hoodie on its raining out
You in danger even if you take the safer rout
So I'm
Michael, way too many hanes
Can't be the shit
Surrounded by shit stains
Can't stomach me cuz I'm that pain
I'm Omari & you're seeing a Ghost, Taylor Dane
mother thinking that you on some other shit
Oh, what a job this is
As easy as it looks to you, I make it look so easy
With the music I'd be making big
a Vulcan
An alchie but I know outcome
Of mixing it with the talcum
The powder done got me tripping
wilding out on the mission
missing my uncle Evan
The beat
sleep 'cause you're little Cindy Lou Who
Down with the hurrah since the raising hell tour
Just listen to his cuts there's no reason to tell more
Cindy
sleep 'cause you're little Cindy Lou Who
Down with the hurrah since the raising hell tour
Just listen to his cuts there's no reason to tell more
Cindy
Years gone by like my stand made in heaven
Cant just trust anyone who calls them self Reverend
Angels here scarce or their engines are revving
late for that
(don't you ever be late)
Everyone happy? Yay!
Bob your head one time
I'ma make, make you bob your head one time, yo
Bob your head one
feeding Nigga not a shrimp he be a lobster
Head bob and Weavin off the weed like Rasta
I'm Cooking with heat like spaghetti just at the pasta
I'm from
girl's cunt - I surface with the purpose
To let y'all niggaz know the demo
Voice is a instrument that's monumental
You couldn't fuck with the style if you
like this...
The part of Bruce the Duck is played by an oboe...
Louie the Cat is a clarinet. All right, he's not really a
clarinet. He's just --- you
the war starts with the drum
808s and low ends beating on my chest like King Kong
Gorilla warfare, the force here
You could feel it in the song
All
Engineered by Mark Evans
Mixed by Phil Bodger
Guitars by Robbie McIntosh (of The Pretenders)
Keyboards and Programming by Peter Vettese and Mark Evans
Drums by
We gone go back with this one dawg
Evan what it do, tell your mom I love her
Tell you about my dawgs, little Rascals Man
We were best friends
appear in clouds on some heaven to earth shit
Fake niggas drown the deeper the verse gets
Deep as a skinny girl's cunt - I surface with the purpose
(Like Oh)
Got the Mac-11
With the clip of seven
Bussin' rounds on me
Make 'em sing to heaven
If you want me
Better send the reverend
(Like Woah)
down, we can find a way to break through
Even if we can't find Heaven, I'll walk through Hell with you
Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by
Already on me
Shoutout to Fregley
Man, you so deadly
But that’s not who this about,
Songs about a real special guy
Who goes by the name Bob Duncan
(Hyah)
"Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo
In Los Angele's, like an Evangelist
I can introduce you to your maker
Bring you closer to nature
Ashes after they cremate you
There was one open seat
At the end of a crowded bar
By a grungy old man
With a dirty glass and old cigar
If you're going to drink bourbon Mack
By me
me and Bob Marley
That we'd need to head to the creek with Chris Farley
Down by the river where my people like to party
Aye, it's like I on't dance
giving you Dap if you not the homie
Most of these niggas be sleeping on me
Now it’s rock a by baby, with macs and 380s
Ain’t want us to eat, but my niggas
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