Lyrics:
the forty cal' is full and I'm waitin'
No matter which county I'm in DeKalb, Cobb, Fulton, or Clayton
Muah baby, you know who it is, the kiss of death
If
I want to dedicate this one to Robert 'Yummy' Sanderford
And all other lil' young niggas that's in a rush to be gangstas
As a young nigga, I
and leave me out in the cold
Story's old, tale's been told by many scholar
Got fist full of dollars, and a pocket full of love
God above, if you hear me
to stunt - I don't need to front
There black history e'ry day - I don't need a month
The survey says - by the streets according
Kanye's just important
kids nappy heads and all dirty
And she's gettin pimped by a nigga that's thirty
I saw her hangin' in an alley
Bragging to her friends how she's ho'in' in
to Disney World, world world world world
Front now, you got a cheshire cat grin
eerie malevolence of commerce combined with backspins
I'm just a kid, tryin'
night go right with the
KC Tea (KC Tea)
I like to drink it in a real big wine glass
At my place with full of women lettin' time pass
With Hennesey,
Last night,
A room full, drunk,
Sang along to the songs I never had
The courage to write.
Given the chance
I'd stay in this chorus forever,
daughter
See 88 the new world order
I got yo bitch and she takin' orders
Just took a L for a 50 pack
Give me some time i'ma get it back
She gon hold up
shed so many tears
Please Lord, forgive me for my sins
'cause here I come
And fuck the world 'cause I'm cursed
I'm havin' visions of leavin'
Here in
alone
So I'ma take the competition wit me, Lord forgive me
But a whole bunch, of blood-suckin punks, is out to get me
In a flash of a moment, I slash
your ass
I'm thuggin'
I'm thuggin'
I'm thuggin'
I'm thuggin'
Middle fingers to the cops and the judge
Raised by the O niggas just mean mug
I
happen
The LBP, the world famous Juice Bros
The field Marshall Goodman and the man called Floyd I
Thanks out to Bad Religion and the Descendants
of the palette, all sanguine and cool
The music mostly jazz, the jazz mostly old
Punctured by some punk and some old smoky soul
An atlas on the trunk from
the whole world how the lord did it
Go and put me in line with all the worst sinners, only difference is I'm tall and a lil' thinner
But if you ask who's
Tauheed Epps
Yeah
Pray for our sins, I
Pray for our souls, the
Tears that we're cryin'
Let 'em all be forgiven
Let it all be forgiven (When your
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
whattup?
Ayo black men, you're dyin' by a dozen cousin
So all I do is walk away yo' Prince as if nothin' happened
You call me a punk, I gotta step cause
Tauheed Epps
Yeah
Pray for our sins, I
Pray for our souls, the
Tears that we're cryin'
Let 'em all be forgiven
Let it all be forgiven (When your
that comes in this world
The world's full of hate discrimination and sin
People judgin' other people by the color of skin
I'll attack this matter, in
redruM, Mr. I-B-N, fool
Oh, that's what Lil Fly would do
Now Killaman what would you do?
First I hit up Crunchy and I get full of that Holy Ghost
Righteous wax chaperon, rotating ring king
March of the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was
Sinner man looking for a place to run
Tell the truth in tongues’
Enemy reduced by one's
Thousands 2 can put 10, 000 in flight
Speak truth to power every 24
happen
The LBP, the world famous Juice Bros
The field marshall Goodman and the man called Floyd I
Thanks out to Bad Religion and the Descendants
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