Lyrics:
was on her way to the house on the hill
Where he waited on the windowsill
When a blinding light caught her by surprise
And she held on with everything
the things nice
With no room for release they never tell you that twice
All by herself with no skills to hone
Doing 20 to life in a house of your own
And if
duct tape stretched out
Ducked the fuck way down, waitin' to straight jump out
Put it over your mouth, and grab you by the face, what now?
Oh, you
There is a house in New Orleans
Call it the rising sun
And it's been the ruin
Of many a poor girl
And me, oh lord, I'm one
If I'd listened
a point that I'm a serious joint
You can roll me up and puff me, and then I'll anoint
Your head with oil lots of oil
Make it run like water, watch it
(remember?)
All this back and forth,n gotta quit (uh, yeah, uh-huh)
By the way, this is the remix (yeah)
Sweatin' me but I'm not your type
You think you
thugs that I console to
never leave your house without, keepin it up
To the head that is, you don't know what mad is?
Couple of bodies under my belt
Sledgren
Like my gin neat
Run the game, I suggest that you get floor seats
Might not leave with everything, but we for sure get a piece
Fix it
the drop, ice in the watch
Nigga, that's Ben and Jerry dollars, watch a nigga make a stack house
Gingerbread man, run while you can
All you niggas lame,
house
No, I ain't gon' go and act a fool
And be the lead story on nigga news
Never me, sucker, I'd never be your lover
I'd rather make you suffer, you
Look out the window and drank and chill out we get high!
It's 1 A.M. and the crowd is still live
Relax to the groove by me just move with ya' boy
Got
first
(I hope they ready)
A lot of p**** n**** talk like bro
Little runnin' they mouth
That is till run in they house
Put the gun in they mouth
makin' 'em takin' 'em breakin' 'em all
Diss 'em one by one
You make the mistake of thinkin' I'm soft
Thinkin' Run ain't the one
From eighty-three
do
Nobody, no one does it better
Look out the window and drank and chill out we get high
It's 1a.m and the crowd is still live
Relax to the groove by
around your neighborhood and you wake up with bodies by your house
(Hook [Lil Wayne])
Yeah! 1993, I'm back motherfucker, this is Ice T.
Got my nigga Ice Cube in the motherfuckin house.
Yeah! Up here in the ammo dump studios I got
(remember?)
All this back and forth,n gotta quit (uh, yeah, uh-huh)
By the way, this is the remix (yeah)
Sweatin' me but I'm not your type
You think you
house
No, I ain't gon' go and act a fool
And be the lead story on nigga news
Never me, sucker, I'd never be your lover
I'd rather make you suffer, you
hearing words I never heard
Can't believe you wanna teach that to someone
I stop by your house even though we both know it was a rare occasion
Brother with
to those who relate, and those who have traits that matching my pace.
Run it up, run it up, stacking that paper like double cups, run it up, run it up,
Lemonade freckles, strawberry skies
Run around with me, summer never dies
Will our love survive through the winter time?
Will our love survive
the tectonic plate shift I
Create is so great
That by the time you reach me the earthquakes
The booth was my birthplace
I'm used to the static
They say I got
was stung by a snake over by the lake
And it looked like he s really, really hurt, he was lying in the dirt
Who, we went it as fast as we could run
and my daughter gettin' chased by my son
The water gun is in his arms, that lil' nigga can run
He get it from his daddy side, you know, them Nigerians
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