Paroles:
Sick Of It All Death Or Jail

It was the usual crowd growing up All good, all bad, ALL UGLY They were like brothers ?cause we all felt the same The future tore them away Born with

m sober I can't focus, pass that weed to me And dedications all day long, seem like when I'm going Through it my partnas stay gone, but its all gravy

a watch for bustaz Either heaven or jail, it's still hell 4 a hustler [Chorus] [2Pac] This is how we ride Not knowin if we'll live or die Catch me rollin

how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all

rest And, how they less than, trying to come between what we share Can't compare, could have been left But when it's mine, I never share, fight to the death

situation My minds in jail I don?t know what time that it is facing Cause I?m (Chorus) Verse 3: I?, sick of knocking I?m sick of clockin And I?m sick

, kill one of mine, I'mma kill one of yours It ain't bitin' for base, but they still want it raw Y'all niggaz think y'all do dirt, we do it more My man

this sickness I robbed my adversaries, but slipped and left a witness Wonder if they'll catch me, or will this nigga snitch Should I shoot his bitch, or

And it's all about my niggaz, won't mention hoes Keep it tight on all four corners, warrant search Po' po' and co's they all get merked, it go Y'all