Traduction: Cancer. Back From The Dead.
back from the dead Death's awakening, stage by stage Including the pain, back from the dead Under the knife, bring back to life Bad mistake, back from
to you, it's like you laughed at my pain Put me in a position to pick up a pistol, and I'll blast in the game I'm going crazy, being murdered by the hands of cancer
bring you back from the dead If I could eat your cancer I would but I can't So I keep writing these songs for you To steal you from your grey And
try this at home You can be just like me! Mic check one two.. we recordin? I'm cancerous, so when I diss you wouldn't wanna answer this If you responded back
the cock And if I'm goin too far, I take it out and wipe it off and put it back up, and keep going You tryin to hide it from your husband but I know he
? Constantly lookin' at me funny cause my pants swung low And my hats rocked to the left All these dirty looks be gettin me stressed It's time to dead
Gun shots, orange house Dead man walking with a dirty mouth Spoiled milk, stale bread Welfare, bubonic plague Record deal, light bulb Keep back kid not corporate thug Breast cancer
Get one up on y'all, that's why I hustle in these streets from sundown to sunup on y'all Mama said keep bullshittin they'll kill you dead One week of
from my loot to my friends I ain't got time to tighten up loose ends HUH I've been that route...too many times If I ain't stabbed in the back I ain't
Spread On Me And You Can Turn Ya Back But Never Turn The Feds On Me Read The Note Attached We Got Ya Lil Homey We Need Bread Homey Or Das Ya Dead Homey
On Me And You Can Turn Ya Back But Never Turn The Feds On Me Read The Note Attached We Got Ya Lil Homey We Need Bread Homey Or Das Ya Dead Homey Im
and these cats who?s in it. ?Bout these fake ass bitches and these bitch ass niggas. How to spot the cowards from the killas. The flow is from the spinners
Panthers Hahaaaaaaaa! Hit the track like a heart attack Cancer cancer, boogie man on the mic, and the band of Santas, and the easter bunny is the back
or you got a wicked jumpshot Shit, it's hard being young from the slums eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from And now the shit's
a handful of dust comes back in the form of a smitten child our raped daughters, ah the broken bones souls cleaved from hearts they come back to us and
was given a seat in the stand, who was breaking away from the pack, who was only a stranger at home, who was ground down in the end, who was found dead
