Lyrics:
Jones
She look like Jim
By my side I feel like him
Brand new wig she feel like Kim
She want some skims
I want some rims
Brand new butt she got new limbs
in his time
Saved the widows farm but spread chaos and alarm
Maybe he was driven to his crimes
Song was made by Billy Gascade
Soon as the news did
and fades into next song Memory Lane]
Haha ha, yeah, its Lovely Daze man (that's right). Jim Jones, fuck it
shit, Capo Status. What's fuckin wit that man
It's not usual, the game be, all up on some South shit
Straight west coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, Blood out"
chill now you punch
Larceny? All I see is a bunch of new punks
I'd have you lyin' to ya mother
Bringin' money e'ry day nigga
You ain't even have to pay
two new ones
When they plastered those dip-shit's Dylan
Klebold and Eric Harris'
Pictures on the front of every
Newspaper don't be surprised if
Every
friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
Francis!
Francis! be careful!
Trying so hard to keep up with the Jones's
Running a rat racing won by our noses
Always put one foot in front
o'clock with the Duke of York
To my photo-fit picture on the news report
Who'd have thought ? I caught glares true to form
On a nudist resort selling shares
Since you turned the tables on me
I've been steady and learnin' lonely
Keepin' this turntable spinnin'
Everything from Jones to Jennings
Slowly
I'm drinking that George Jones
Chase it down with a Wynette song
Burn a little Willie Nelson all night long
Putting Ol' Waylon on
I'm going to get all
Give me some Howard Zinn
And Woody Guthrie
Won't you please shut off
that 24 hour TV
It's not truth
It's only editorial
It's not news
It's something
where i sleep, now give me my key
[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet
We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
but Slim Shady is for the children!" (Hey, wait!)
I look at my life in a new light, fuck it
Give me two mics, I write songs for me, fuck what you like
but Slim Shady is for the children!" (Hey, wait!)
I look at my life in a new light, fuck it
Give me two mics, I write songs for me, fuck what you like
cities, new schools, different peeps, different rules
Pops working double time to keep us from seeing the blues, so
Mostly learned by my lonesome
Different
the graduation, I press rewind
To remind myself, that I define myself
I got plenty room to grow, but I ain't by myself
I got love for Ella, I got love for Howard
I
you fearing God if you fear COVID
Agendas right to our face but we don't notice
It's only Jesus stand by me, not the song by Otis
100K, gotta thank
Movement and the new Jim Crow
Sit back, I'll introduce you to a wonderful place
In every state called 'Myhood USA'
Life wasn't perfect, but they did what
my nigga Julius Jones
I had a dream that Mumia was home, I speak freedom in songs
'Cause all I see is racist faces
Where hate lives and they rape
And nothin' ever comes as a big surprise
And the naked city never closes its eyes
A new story every day
Told a thousand different ways
That's
time I admit that
Is by myself or in a song, we both know I'm in the wrong
Acting like you the victim but we both know that's some bullshit
But I'll take
)
Replenished the game as a whole,
I do it for the love.
No fame for a soul (my brains in the clouds,
got rain on my new God sing me a song)
Yeah, and all
If I was born rich instead of beautiful
I coulda done somethin' useful
I coulda wrote a smash hit or fought the globalists
Instead of eatin' pills by
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