Lyrics:
For four long years she stayed by his side,
Even though at times it was a bumpy ride
But he was good to her kids from another man,
Although he never
right out of those woods
Old Dillon had a million tales but he sung me one refrain
And I recall that song by John Dillon James
One July Monday morning
stop
A way to make the gats not pop
And is it possible
For me to live the way I need to live
For me to get what I need to get
And give all that I need
last name
It's all about game, nothin' else, for delf
Walk through the woods then stomp on your foot
With high, I take out any comp' in the hood
last name
It's all about game, nothin' else, for delf
Walk through the woods then stomp on your foot
With high, I take out any comp' in the hood
eighty-five well
When his stash slow, he be crazy
Say he by his moms, hit her on her payday
Junior high school dropout, teachers never cared
They was paid just
are justified by the means
When Jack's on the scene
Track the movement, don't lose it
Cause if he come through the back, he attacks
Crack, cocaine,
jumped too
And coldcocked Buddy on his follow through
The big man crumbled but he felt all right
'Cause the last thing he saw
was the flashing red
why the fuck would they front it
Lot of niggas claiming hoods but they never been from it
Damn he think I'm just a singer, Chris brown told him run it
resent it
Paid twenty two hundred
Just for a Chanel bag
Then you keep three
Dollars in it
The new dude you fuckin
Pretend that he care
Then you allow his
All these tears and
Aint one bill been paid
How many cheeks turn
Before you're just a pushover?
How long before the chance
To turn things around is
dudes got bullied all throughout high school
Grew up seeking vengeance, cause within the it's a lit fuse
Issues that lack tissue, couch time, pistols
I saw my homie lose her soul for a fixing
Oblivious to all the pain she inflicting
I told her watch it you don't know what they mixing
I should've
me pop my trunk
Show you my amps and my Mossberg pump
Because when I pull it most niggers run
Fool niggers stay and get hit by the ricochet
he'd never hurry
Don't seen him at all, he's a messer
The door opened that night and
I got such a fright in the doorway was who
(Was who?) was Wild Bill
Bitch I’m tryna get
Quarter pound, half a pound, whole pound, paid!
Weigh it up, break it down, bag it up, Slang!
Work that 9-5 but can’t let shit
Y'all know what this is
D-Block
Oh yeah by the way
This is the remix
Who!
You can kiss your ass good-bye
D-Block D-Block D-Block D-Block
La
the lone ranger
Mayne, it's murder, murder, kill, kill
On the corner where the marijuana followed by the bill
Some niggas cut by delja, some niggas cut by
Had to make a play I deal in codes just like I'm bill gates
How long did it takes who gives a fuck long as its money made
Grinding every day keep my
then something happened and he changed almost overnight
He called and texted me sounding amped up and delirious
He was spouting all kinds of crazy
ur man
He was falling w a plan
Got some Gucci skirted linen
Soon be living by the sand
Gave it to the homie cause all week he asking for a hand
And I
of her
But she never escaped from under the cloud cover
A woman reduced
She was eaten by a monster
And after all these years
The past, it still haunts her
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
think)
Not what you think (Not what you think)
Do you get your bills paid with my name in your mouth
Do you gain weight eating up my name in yo mouth
Do
.jpg "Bill Gaither")
.jpg "Bill & Gloria Gaither")
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