Lyrics:
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
best, I
Win.Every.Time that I provide the vibe that's got ya nodding
Check the sockage next the pockets
On the chest, you know Im rocking
Something that's
why
And I been getting through, take me as proof
Watch the time cuz it's gon' go by
Sometimes you gotta to do what you gotta do
It's ok if you don't
to better myself is when I'm bet against by everyone else
So Joe hit the head on the nail
You ain't seen God 'til you starin' down a barrel
I was gun shy,
Once upon a time in a neighborhood not far away
Was a dude named Timothy, he tried to steal a car a day
He kept a screwdriver close by, he did
bang nigga
Yeah, nigga
And if the devil die today, I'mma treat it like it's a holiday
Bout the Michael Jackson, beat it, I mean it, I got a powder day
a whole beef sandwich, yeah
I told him Sloppy Joe the nigga
762, sittin' backseat like it came
With a chauffeur in it
Yeah, fresh out the court
Well, it's Friday night
Let the good times roll
There's a joint down by the river
It's called Barrelhouse Joe's
If ya wanna have some fun
That's
the hell cracker sell in the neighborhood
To the corner house bitches,
Miss porker, little Joe or Todd Bridges
Or anybody that he know
So I got me a bird,
a bottle of champagne taking about
Harry, Joe, and Dick and Bobby and what they ain't got
And they live down in the lower development homes, and you won't
by the gun, so I'm a die by the gun
I'm paranoid, it got me on the run
Will I live to see my grey hairs
I don't know
Cause I'm getting alot of mean
Jackson, what's in your wallet
BECU deposit, I'm tryna make a profit
Then I spit the spinach, I ain't trippin' if I got it
I'm on 84, driving fast, water in
Senior Constable George Devine had been sleeping soundly when he was suddenly
woken by the sound of a galloping horse. It was Saturday, February 8
time, got guns that mourn niggas' moms (what else?)
Shoot up clubs and destroy niggas' vibes (come on)
Everybody running for their motherfucking lives
clicked that I don’t know where you live
Antisocial baby I just wanna roll up and get that paper coming(Ganja)
Joe say one step at a time
Paranoid n**
I aint got shit to live for anyway
Yes you do
I'll see these niggas in hell anyway
You gotta lot to live for
Man fuck all that
I'm sayin, you live
bars that all
Your children gonna live for
Was fighting for four more
Payin' for Kamala Hoe
We missin' out on money coulda
Went and got a solo
Then fill
BLAH!! Comin through like G.I. Joe
Star Wars movie deal like Han So-lo
Make you bounce around like this was calyp-so
Always shine cause I got the high pro
of sense, pass the biscuits please
There's five more acres in the lower 40 I've got to plough
And mumma said it was a shame about Billy Joe, anyhow.
Seems
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
chere
And y'all wants me to be forgiving out chere
I'm supposed to live by Christian ideas
But being homophobic could kill your career
So I switched
Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Under-boss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
We got the real live shit
you came from.
I guess that's the part of the circle of our lives
like the hands of a clock going round.
if only we could wind them back and return
John
You baby dick-sucker
Joe Jackson beat you you better dance
Like James Brown faggot in red leather pants
You made up vitiligo you're
A liar you
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