a suitcase and i am coming with you the the west coast but it's not my home but they know that i'm good at keeping things in my chest in my chest
in his casket -- the aftermath More bodies being buried -- I'm losing my homies in a hurry They're relocating to the cemetary Got me worried, stressin, my
pierces my chest and I can't stop dropping everything I thought we'd be sexy together thought we'd be evolving together I thought we'd have children
s hot I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go alalalala Girl my head space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind That's why I ain't thinking
ya) [Busta Rhymes:] Look in case you mis-understanded exactly what I'm building The shit that I could live for my children (children) children (children) Now
you with it From in my soul to every word that I curse with all the agony expressed in this verse; let me ask my niggaz (why?) My niggaz tell me (why)
go (Ooh wee) It's like a group of happy children Yo, it's such a feelin' To see all of my live nigga's carry on now Oh see how I be gettin' so passionate
I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go alalalala Girl my head space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind That's why I ain't thinking
The thicks blocks Now every rapper claim He let his clique pop But even myself told the gun To know the run then get shot Ive been there before Now im
yay Drinkin' Ol' Gold down my yellow brick road Where we write my script until my storys been told See, I got a little money and my lifes been up Now
every circle as I roll another vega heavy with purple take a puff and inhale and hold it 'till it get stale in my chest exhale my stress my nigga R-B
every circle As I roll another Vega, heavy with purple Take a puff and inhale And hold it til' it gets stale In my chest, exhale my stress My nigga R-
Again! To the men, women, and children Who died in their struggle to live, never to be forgotten [hebrew man praying] [Verse 1:] Yo my own blood
Again! To the men, women, and children Who died in their struggle to live, never to be forgotten [hebrew man praying] [Verse 1:] Yo my own blood Dragged
Never Again! To the men, women, and children Who died and struggled to live, never to be forgotten [hebrew man praying] [Verse 1:] Yo my own blood
feelin' self-conscious Just need me a little space So Mr. Media, ya betta' take ya camera out my face Chours: Not today, I got things on my mind Not today, Now
the way We all feel alone every single day And at eighteen, couldn?t wait to move out It?s been five years and now I?m starting to doubt Whether all my
