you have a change in heart and want what you cant have. however its too late. no think you better leave, forget it ever happened. we'll be better off. time
doin' every thang And blanked on your ass like I was to blame The next time ya see me hit ya boy with a chain You hit ya boy with a chain I ain't got time
Ross) Uh, uhhh, cigar please, I came alive like a moff in the Summer time, Japanese wheel blades all samurai, shine brighter than them b-tches on the other side, time
6'n the morning' police at my door Fresh adidas squerk across the bathroom floor Out the back window I make a escape Don't even get a chance to grab my
didn't know what hit her didn't have time to ask But livin' in the county is a serious task Niga didn't know what happend Didn't have time to ask Back
,2 & 3 from "The Thrash of Naked Limbs" e.p. Vile 37T. Tracks 4,5 & 6 from "I Am The Bloody Earth" e
took it? Why they didn't make the CL6 wit' a clutch? And if you don't smoke why the hell you reachin' for my dutch? Why rap, 'cuz I need air time? Why
wars, L.A. wit no stars Check this out, I can heal your broken heart So don't be so fast to react so quick Or get all mad and try to scratch up my 6
what she told you But I bounced upon the love one time I took her to my house, laid her on the couch Set it affray, then threw her ass out (So what about the girl in the 6
persuade that easily but if you spend the cheese for me Nigga we can fuck free frequently You study me but another me could never be so Broke the mold 6-0-6
Could you tell me where you run to? (When it's rent time and I done spent mine ba-by) When it ain't nowhere to turn to (When it's rent time and I done
ve thought I be big-time ballin, cuttin thru the halls and strippin with the Gs, slippin niggas, please Your baby girl's straight down with a hustler Never gave the time
And Chizzel will bag it and seal it Then Boldy factored a did To know the cash that Im flippin 6 o's gon get stashed in the ceilin 6 o's in traffic
I'm posted in the A Sittin' low in my Phantom ridin' high Every time I ride by Nigga I'm the shit But not like this Up in this bitch A T L A N T A I
make you lose intensity The Common Sense in me remembers the basement I'm Morpheus in this hip-hop Matrix, exposing fake shit Chorus Somedays I take the L
hittin' out, in L.A. no gettin' out 2 1 3, pack your P, fly wicked style Listen now, I'm sinnin' out A 6-pack I'm sippin' out It's a wicked world that
up with that girl That's been, two-wayin' you all week Her baby, Daddy's out of town so, you can fuck around It's okay to check in that Motel 6, $59.95
, icey wrist Icey cris, I see miss Icey 6 tha sea six Icey fits on five, icey tips Icey that, icey this Icey neck, icey wrist Icey cris, I see miss Icey 6