Pick up all the pieces, trailing behind the ashes that blow into your face. I see sneering, and I hear screaming, days that always last late into the
remain Cause I ain't working for the radio station like Martin Payne I grind and maintain my piece of mind Almost lost it once on the line But see that
all creep to the ground in a heap And you pick 'em all up in a tangle Next your pillow resigns and politely declines To remain at its usual angle Well
heist, with my heist with me Represent, yo When I wake up in the mornin', when I get up out of my bed, at all times I remain a hustler, at all times
God will get down With verbal smacks, bustin gats, jiggin nines in yo' backs I don't play that, my silver spoon was bent way back Hate to say that, but that
wu, unexpectedly Protect ya neck, my sword still remain imperial Before I blast the mic, rza scratch off the serial We reign all year round from june
hole in my faith That I constantly feel like I'm falling from grace And being chased by This face that lives inside of the hate that lives Inside of the way that
All Souls Day Spend your days, your time's unfazed Passed out on a floor Lost remains were claimed the names Of something you ain't never felt before I know a star that
like the Wu, unexpectedly Protect Ya Neck, my sword still remain imperial Before I blast the mic, RZA scratch off the serial We reign all year round
88.5 Chicago. Yeah. I shoot the gift on the radio station 88.5 WHPK was the only station that would fuck with rap 88.5 Chicago. On the radio station.
trying to sleep train took forever at union station it?s all peeling paint and hair grease stains a million tired commuters only remains train took forever at union station
to drink, the only drink allowed to put me in my deeper sleep, wake up in the morning on the corner no school fa me, nigga bought them peaches that be
that the night is the only worthy key" I have seen Heaven?s sleep, and I?ve watched the angels weep, they are slaves of fear and pain I know that the dark will save us all
hath made us weep they are slaves of fear and pain (that is ruled by a god insane). I know that the night will save us all O Lucifer, O Morningstar
which you stand here and in demand don't touch a fresh wound that bleeds all over you carpets the stains the story book remains and the page that states
, closer to that nothingness that everyone seemed to embrace. As it pissed all over them, the sigh of relief steamed off the soaking depressants, an impending sleep
t stop When that funk shit drops To make your shit go pop Now let that beat ride In your 'G ride We gettin' me right Hittin' with that Dogg Pound "C" life Now its I, with that
