push this so called force that inspires their call To be extreme so it seems is a mental crutch To cover up for those that are completely out of touch
Traduction: Death. Out Of Touch.
push this so called force that inspires their call to be extreme so it seems is a mental crutch To cover up for those that are completely out of touch
bad thought And head for the door Outside on the pavement The dark makes no noise I can feel the sweat on my lips Leaking into my mouth I'm heading out
each other on a daily basis our block be on that cain our block be on that map my block be on that game my block be on that death muthafuckas claiming
to get my head clear Need to clear the air Should be clear I'm a cold, hard killer Who's sophisticated with touch of high-class A heart-breaker bringing death
of us walks out that door It seems that I thrive on the dark side of things I always feel alive when the death bell rings Now you come and you bring out
of us walks out that door It seems that I survive on the dark side of things I always feel alive when the death bell rings Now you come and bring out
drinking liquor You still gotta hand me your watch I'm in the kitchen with the pans and the pots Razor on the plate, trying to figure out how many grams
... Touched me He looked at me and stared, yes he Bumped me My heart was unprepared when he Tapped me And knocked me off my feet One little touch Now
motherfucking turn I been praying for a way to stay out, escape these streets Will I survive, how will I eat So I keep waking up, wishing for a out Gotta
't that simple y'all can't turn me up dead Best believe retaliation is a must, I'ma bust with fury Look at me laugh at my competition, flashing my jewelry Death
man's idol (God) (talking) Who gone save your ass when we blast Who gone get the last laugh, coming up out of this ghetto crisis Coming up out of this
the pockets out. It's for recreation. Just recreation. It's under the parachutes. It's new recreation. Death in a pocket size tucked in a pocket while they place flags out
away I send this out to all the fallen soldiers That's in the cemetaries buried Never got to see they dreams For everything I touch you touch For every
my dogs in the mornin And if I die by a slug, the death of a true thug Tell me will my ni**az mourn me? Gettin blowed out High, watch me murder the bird