Paroles:
At The Drive In Pick Pocket

In the humble stence of nativity hummed the smell of television snow a faint S.O.S. flickering riding on the coattails of their ground zero neighborhood

In the humble stence of nativity hummed the smell of television snow a faint S.O.S. flickering riding on the coattails of their ground zero neighborhood

thug life in blood it's like hell at home So many cops around my hood it's like jail at home But still I roam, on the block, with a pocket full of sweets

America, I say it blew my mind The Apollo Theater on a 125th street, The place was closed, it was pouring rain, I had a feeling I'd go there again, The taxi driver

! Golden boy boots, Pocket pedal stool Picking sharp smart moves Plastic, tin can, paper separator Busy bee wave, wave save the planet flag But sneaky in suburbia A-ha! Candid Camera Hook, line and sinker For the four-wheel drive

butter interior, black body And in case you didn't know, I be the Twista Hundred bombs in my pockets, put your ones up I hear some niggaz lookin at me

in me that was driving me At the grammys I said I inspired me But my big brother who I always tried to be When I kick a flow it was like, pick and roll

Eating on the low) Meet me at the southside Baby we can go hide Knowin' that my boys gon' have my back (Yeah, yeah) Only at the southside girl (Southside

butter interior, black body And in case you didn't know, I be the Twista Hundred bombs in my pockets, put your ones up I hear some niggaz lookin at me