Well we've been sitting all around here for a couple of days And we've been staring at the sun because we like it And we've been wandering all around
I wanna know when everybody's gonna let it go I wanna know when everybody's gonna get it 'Cause we sit, and we hope, and nothing happens at all Yeah
Shoot out the locks Shatter the windows Destroy belongings Leave the letter on the table Yeah we'll be gone before they get home in the morn' We put
I know it's a tad bit strange for the both of us But a particular bother to me Is that we both sit here pretending with the other That there's nowhere
Shut the fuck up, it's 1AM And we'll be leaving in an hour or 2 I've been drinking since 3 yesterday So I can 4get about what we're gonna do, yeah I'
Whenever I feel like givin' up Whenever my sunshine turns 2 rain Whenever my hopes and dreams Are aimed in the wrong direction She's always there tellin
atlas make a map of it Globe trotter, hoe hopper, super star, ask direct [?] People always wonder so they ask us who we are Pullin' up to clubs when we too young to hit
s why it's 'No More Pain' on my lower arm And '1 Deep' tatted on my other arm If you see me lookin in ya'll direction I'm not about to speak, finna do
Outlaw nigga, Westside, throw it up Hahaha.. had love for 'em, but why you turnin on me? Why me? Westside, how you do it boy? [2Pac] I went from, nothin
might die in vain So fuck it! We'll live off the street fame! God didn't send me in the right direction I'm gettin hit by a diesel in the intersection
You gon', say the wrong shit and get your whole face split The smell of victory love it so much I can taste it I spot my target, blaze it, direct hit
gon hit em, chew em up and spit em out too much venom and if you role with 'em we gonna fuck you up with 'em I got too much momentum movin in my direction
just won't go away Time, money, time, money Nigga with money, don't have no time Nigga with time, don't have no money [Verse 2: Akon] 'Kon live in one
torture 'till we find this place, yeah that's right Thought it was just past this light, past Van Dyke Better hit that map right, read them directions
Fake-ass thugs with toy guns and cheap triggers with a deathwish, thinkin I'm the nigga to mess with Let the tech lift, direct chest hit, melt your necklace
2x] (Ghetto Cowboy) You better count yo' money [2x] (Ghetto Cowboy) You better count yo' money [2x] (Ghetto Cowboy) You better count yo' money [2x] (
It sounds hard but it's not ya'll When I get there that's it ya'll Ninth day of the third month, it's on [Chorus] [Verse 2:] Up in that H2 with them
