was much smarter Lost myself to only find my love for you was only blind And nothing was left to show When there's nothing left to show There's nothing
you You just wanna know if you can kick some game Come with something more clever than just your name See it's like this I wanna take you home But you gotta show
baking that bread In the bakery, if I ain't out, doing no shows I hit the block, once in a blue, and front with the crew And show niggaz a good time,
I was steamin' like a demon as I drove home But it just goes to show not trying to bust your bubble But girls of the world ain't nothing but trouble
old lady in her Craftmatic And like fresh oxygen to an asthmatic I get a thrill [Chorus:] Every time that a door gets closed. The thrill Every time that the reaper shows
two sides to every story, except for verse two I was rubbing in two left shoes I apologize man HOOK I'll keep my enemies beware close so I can see
seemed to pay it any mind It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring And nothin? could ever come between Lily and the king No, nothing ever could
seemed to pay it any mind It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king No, nothin' ever would
calling me Somewhere in the distance lies my home Closer, closer I'm feeling the weight of a million years Closer, closer I find myself out on this cold road again Closer, closer
that I was cheated But baby not this time It?s just your insecurities You?re messing with your mind You?re driving me away And there?s nothing left
? I was steaming like a demon as I drove home But it just goes to show not trying to bust your bubble But girls of the world ain't nothing but trouble
seemed to pay it any mind It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king No nothin' ever would
even if we spoke the same words would we still be turned as friends even if it was simple from start with the pieces of a heart even if there is nothing left
(verse) Let me rub my back against the notches on your bedpost scratch these afterthoughts off my flesh and shed ghosts My head's close to your closet
she's so close, Feeling her grind made me lose my mind, I'm just plain old take home material, take home material. I keep my fingers crossed, Hoping to find a way to show
soul so the sybolism's yet to show. Is life so obscene that death's more serine? Or was an old auther trying to write his own closing scene? Nothin stings
