There's no need to pay The money's on its way We don't want you coming home Out on your own, always alone Looks like you've made your own bed Made
There's no need to pay The money's on its way We don't want you coming home Out on your own, always alone Looks like you've made your own bed Made a
me Come and live inside of me CHORUS Mold and make me with Your fire And consume me with Your love Until Your will is my desire All that I have and hold on
from the get-go, hello Set to the echo, pyscho Pen got a mind of it's own, gotta write my rhymes with a timer otherwise I'll probably vibe out to a nine
vroom get respect from the get-go, hello set to the echo, pyscho pen got a mind of its own, gotta write my rhymes with a timer otherwise I'll probably vibe out
buy a khaki pants And all of a sudden you say a Indiana Jones An' a thief out gold and thief out the scrolls and even the buried bones Some of the worst
them super emcees settin' them Long Island degrees [Maseo:] I hit the L.I.R.R. for big dreamers out east and get your bank roll split bangin' dents out your
out) (people in the place this is very hard to conceal) (Dove get funky) (Check it out) (People in the place this is very hard to conceal) (Mase get funky) (Check it out
hate Living on your own by twenty one Not a single care and having fun Consuming all the life in front of you Burning out the fuse and smoking the
a factory's wall a worn out child so dream on drown the grasp scream on we know your part breathe on drown the past bleed on consume your own selfpity
running down, hear the crowd gettin' loud! I'm consumed by the sound! Is it her? Is it love? Can the music ever be enough? Gotta work it out, gotta work it out
The day your door is closed The echoes fill your soul It won't say which way to go Just trust your heart To find what you're here for Open another door
be no one else Won't trip out on disappointment 'Cause failure is just not me Still I gotta do my job 'Cause you know my show can't go on without me
the highway Niggaz wanna diss K On they're local mix-tapes There they go again, lyin' to consumers Get their hair cut in the little shop of rumors Your lil' sloppy with your
us to die Let your emotions be crucified Renounce all your thoughts Repent and let your mind be re-taught You'll find what you sought...was based on the
my tomb Prechorus Strike a light Raise your glasses Drink a toast to the boring classes Chorus On the Albion-ay Spew it out your soul Love is on the
a khaki pants And all of a sudden you say a Indiana Jones An' a thief out gold and thief out the scrolls and even the buried bones Some of the worst paparazzis
