for the right pitch so that I can connect She's throwing me curveballs, just to see if Im slippin But I have quite a streak in this game like Cal Ripken
the way I spit crack pipes I bark loud move the crowds with the bitches life Thers a lot of new niggers stepping in the game Gots to keep it real though
forget, But I remember everything..and every sting. And through all the games, We'll both stay the same, As we've always been, Through the fat and thin, Until the end, Until the end
Scratch out] "Getting dusty in the cellar" [Verse 1: Aesop Rock] Yo I was thinking about my sick friend Stringing a ring around my whit's end 30 loops
down the tracks All those young girls fall back and say There goes that sleek young silhouette He don't drive no Corvette But he stings just like a Sting
when your homie dies and no longer with ya And you feel the sting, everytime you look at his picture A cat beg you to give him game, and finally convince
(feat. Sting, Prazwell) {Puff} Yeah ye ye yeah yeah Sting, Bad Boy remix come on {Pras} Yo yo yo Hey yo shake what ya mama gave you is her motto pour
First of all, Fuck Bush That's all, that's the end of it Second, give it up to R.S.E. for hookin' up a kid I got the two best, the newest plus the truest
End of the world, end of the road, disappearing Hanging from the end of the rope, this is where it ends My friends were informants [?] warrants They caught me in a sting
with Motherfucker better duck quick, cause Me and my dogs love to buck shit Fuck the luck shit, strictly aim No aspirations to quit the game Spit yo' game
stare You say where? I'm over here Metaphor physical, rhymes are artistical lyrical mircales difficult, to some terrifical Hypothetically, alphabetically Energetically, theoretically No joke hardcore, rhymes will sting
guns Muthafucker it's on New millenium, and what? Bleek re-born All the haters eat a dick Who I'm riding with bitch You know the game and the name I
We would bicker like the other fools,but talk good game Never imagine all of the diaster that one could bring Good friend you should blame the game,
paul looked at me, nervously without a sweat Carlo haywood got his check, robbed the dope mane Broke his neck Ox and vogues put up on hoes, stinging like
said Sometimes they face endless futility All of them have lived on the edge Here we stand...It's a long way down Lives in hand...Can you see the end