Dependent on things not seen in black and white Responsibility is a dying art form Everything is out of (gun) control "From my cold dead hands" you said
remember the winters in the hood, no heat cold nights No gas no lights, a ghetto low life So my flow twice as strong, from the memories I remember when my
would take my mom away from me cold part about it i was only 6 when she died aunt Sandie and grandma Dorothy wiped the tears from my eye ever since i
Row Fair exchange when we fuck them hoes [2Pac] Repetitive blows are thrown, to my foes No love shown get disposed of blasted full blown My unknown tendencies to mash my car Getting wicked with my
from Goodie Mob's "Cell Therapy"] "Listen to me now, believe me later on" I knew I should've had my jimmy hat strapped on "Listen to me now, believe me later on" There's a message to my
ll run you down with a weapon My goonies get looney anytime that I tell 'em Dead 'em! I walk around with stacks in my denim With fast foreign cars with
own freedom of choice who to listen to You knew good from bad, fair from foul, right from wrong Now your mother's singing that sad song (My baby ain't never
close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain Now back to reality, my gun and my vest And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West Take a look at my
saw drops of blood on my shirt and I remember the doctors saying I was dead. And then later they had to take blood out of my hand 'couse they ran out
how I want [Chorus 1] I did it my way, from crumbs and roaches and rats I did it my way, converted in from hustling to raps I did it my way, from break
(of what), I ain't run(from who) Still I stand (yeah) No matter what VA here I am No matter what remember I ain't break(never), I ain't fold(never) They
don't even know where to begin. STRAPPED DOWN MY BED, FEET COLD AN EYES RED I'M OUT MY HEAD, AM I ALIVE, AM I DEAD. CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID. GOD
second gift, I'm always down to ride. So innocent yet so negative inside (2x). My tolerance has faded. The kisses from the misses never made it. My bridges burnt from Satan. My
back mother fucker from the 6 zone The same crippled mother fucker got picked on I aint never really have shit, holme But a hard time and cold in my spit
