know How I feel about it. but why don't you tell me what makes you different from Many other r&b male artists? huh, what makes me different
t stop, Gangsta music (sic sic sic sic); BUCK BUCK! [VERSE ONE:] I guess my mother had a bad Bone, See back in the days she left all her little kids but now a days
special face takes over your mind. That end of the run. We almost won. The end of the run. We had our fun. The end of the run. I knew it then. It won
if he had $5,000 and he come to me, things would have turn out differently. All right, this is what we gonna do. At the end of the week, I'm gonna have
greed, their wealth's built on blood Of their slaughterhouse haunting the back of the mind The gas chamber of the farm life, the end of the line It's
city where a lot of people don't get shine, shine And, I be on by the fence as soon as anybody stepping out of line, Line And I got way too much love,
line Yea, I can't remember those good old days They are from a different time I gotta tell you, baby We've come to the end of the line
busting shots with my Cali Niggas, fucking with them boys up in Watts, we all [Cali Niggas]. We run deep, hit Compton and rally niggas, Hurricane Game, line
I stuffed my bag with their good money ma, and I never looked back So understand, in the end Ma, every man plays the game If you know me one different
all I had on the line And I give and you take And I played the high stakes I've won and I've lost But, I'm fine Hear me say I'll rise up 'til the end
different crowd It's hard keeping track of how our life's rearranging At times it helps to cry out loud As we get older, we'll go our separate ways Look for better days
beeping me from the pay phone Tying up my line, always interrupting me Calling every hour just to say what's up to me Told her about the days when she
up out the cuts With lyrical buckshots Spillin' all a nigga guts Touch whoever witness, Strays when I displays, A thousand different ways to get paid With a phrase Days
must be made Get in line and put the noose on your neck There's plenty of rope for us all You think you make the difference Yet you ingest their gruel
instead of mere living Folding crumbling withering oh hell What difference when working the way The crown of my work Is what I shall gain At the end of my days
Must be in City Island, I'm surrounded by crabs Was once tight, grew apart for dollars Was on the same panel, now he's Star and Barbara Two different views, two different
Eternal Purpose, without it this earth is dead and worthless N- Never stop giving Him Props Giving Him praise now until the end of our days S- Seek Him
just getting along, its wrong and it reminds me of how you left it last with Dave, cos when you died we didnt see his arse for days and those days turned