of love, give me kiss, give me love Get to talking in codes, the phones bugged This Ferrari I get to the green, half man, hald machine *Tu, tu, tu* I'm on ya head
my voice peak out of one-hundred watts Who wanna cipher, I get dumb Word to my mother my father the holy ghost and rev run, When the source set it down
the ghetto but you cant make it better see the status of your money done changed but the status of your danger remains the same I need to clear my head
in Lay down them lines with them hard hits And I'm harmin, bombin, with heavy bombardments Pushin, poetry, like weed by the pounds Underground railroad RZA track lay it down
Lay down them lines with them hard hits And I'm harmin, bombin, with heavy bombardments Pushin, poetry, like weed by the pounds Underground railroad rza track lay it down
game of kick a can Heads start flying just like peter pan Skills undoubtful, rhymes unbeatable Rough and tough, I'll handcuff and eat 'em too Losses I take none
a nest. We call it home. When the insurance money came through, It seemed dirty, didn't know what to do. Took out the cash, went down to the casino, Down
sewing machine in the living room over by the window. at night when we'd all be in there watching tv after supper, mama would be over at her sewing machine
When I walk down the street you point your ugly finger at me Then you turn to your friends and you laugh, "Hey, what can that be?" Well it's none of your
the courtesy of a couple of weeks heads up The message on the answering machine "Happy holidays you have no job" There are no jobs left in this town at least none
Verse 4: Red Rat] (Lil' Jon) (*Pitbull) Wine down down down waistline go 'round and 'round Make your booty pop tic toc girlfriend go up and down Make
get killed while you dream Fuck a rap group Slaughterhouse a machine Slaughterhouse, a regime I'm gooned up if you know what I mean Everybody want to be down
Chaos-Liege... for every keening horror hacked down by a Hyperborean blade, three more were summoned from the Outer Darkness by the machinations of Angsaar
ghetto, but you can't make it better See the status of your money done changed But the status of your danger remains the same I need to clear my head
rest I got to smoke weed, the blood on my little brother, blood What you really wanna do, I don't think you really want none Roll down the window like
me Talking bout you got hustle, but you bumping to me Talking bout front me work, want some'ing for free But wasn't none of y'all around, when I had nothing