dying of cold and he was penniless. Maybe in the morning, as the politician sipped breakfast tea, She lay cold and dead before the empty grate. Every
wall Uptown it's dead now but, out here no one seems to care at all Slick girls and sick boys and each one lining up to take it home They hold tight their
the guitar, or Jerry Wonder beats Maybe the money when I didn't have a dime Maybe a way out before committing crimes Coulda been Lauryn, perhaps it was Pras Probably the mirror looking dead
have to go and serve state time There's always somebody talkin 'bout you owe 'em I made not a dollar, you didn't sell nada Niggaz ain't even grateful