One thing for certain little girl, I'm running out of rope Down to the dogs Down to the dogs Woke up in the morning little girl going Down to the dogs
ll be remembered as some young muthaf**ka soldiers And if you believe in that s**t that you heard Y'all dont know us, y'all dont know us [Napoleon] Now I been trapped down
Burn, burn, burn Soon, soon, soon Moon, moon, moon I will get you Soon!, Soon!, Soon! Let the carnival bells ring Let the serpent sing Let everything We came down
full clip (YO) Set up cones when I'm firing chrom I hittin ladies to old men in retirement homes Dail 9-1-1 runnin gun in the street dungeon Earth, moon
now, the gun blow It be goin down, diggy diggy down diggy down down [Verse Two: Redman] While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse When
the Shaolin my nigga Hell yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow It be goin down, diggy diggy down diggy down down Verse Two: Redman While the planets and the stars and the moons
to cry And I went on down the road He went on down the road And I went on down the road He went on down the road Well, the moon it looked exhausted
is ready to blow. And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos And everyone is behaving like dogs. And the horses are coming down Violin Road And Dutch is dead
, I represent the Shaolin my nigga Hell yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down While the planets and the stars and the moons
down for me But Rattler wouldn't fetch for me because he liked that coon I saw them walking paw in paw later by the light of the moon Grandpa had a
cry? And I went on down the road He went on down the road And I went on down the road He went on down the road Well, the moon it looked exhausted Like
, I represent the Shaolin my nigga Hell yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down While the planets and the stars and the moons
of blasphemous Bill MacKie Whenever wherever or whatsoever the manner of death he die Whether he die in the light o' day or under the peak-faced moon
fuckin sweathogs Endin up strapped to hospital gurneys With a stage show resemblin some "weekend at bernie's" Straight from "the dead zone" with ten poems Of dead
sound, no one around Half the sun's gone underground All the dead still hold their heads But their old weeping won't resound As we drag our western talks Down
