your radio look at the sky look at the moon look at the way it glow I aint no ghost so don?t be afraid to go on this midnight vibe So can we get a systems
on glass and lips of dolls I'm told there was beauty in our silence So hold me angel, love me angel Kiss the sun and burn our lips dead radio Candy girl
We third coast, all about our feddy bleed the block and get ghost Different strokes for different folks, so we choose to cutthroat We ain't riding, on
] We third coast, all about our feddy bleed the block and get ghost Different strokes for different folks, so we choose to cutthroat We ain't riding on
bury niggaz close to heart What was a friend now a ghost in the dark, cold hearted bout it Nigga got smoked by a fiend, tryin to floss on him Blind to
ll battle pride them cats ain't served On the real it's true I'd dodge a draft too But see, I don't want what them muthafuckas do They, all talk like Republican radio
test me and I bet you get burned! And at the same time learn, that I'm not that nigga Nigga on it for reala, you wanna deal with the killa Give the scrilla
lanes will take us anywhere We got one last chance to make it real To trade in these wings on some wheels Climb in back, Heaven's waiting on down the
bust on the mic, I bust a real hard rhyme" --- Keith Murray "Bust it rugged, shine like a gold nugget" (what they know about this?) "When I bust on the
sampling Ellie Goulding - Under the Sheets] [Ellie Goulding:] You left a blood stain on the floor You set your sights on him You left a hand print on
(Ellie Goulding) You left a blood stain on the floor You set your sights on him You left a hand print on the door, Like all the boys before, like all
from a rainy Thursday on the avenue thought I heard you talking softly I turned on the lights the TV and the radio but still I can't escape the ghost
ll beat the shit out you at the line of scrimmage I rock shows in the ghetto, nigga you stuck in the village I wanted to spit on the radio since I was
, foundered boat And the train track will take All the wounded ones home And I'll be alone. Fare thee well, Sara Jones. Now we lie on the floor While the radio