wouldn't make it on your own Cos you're just like your mother, well, where is she now? You'll end up like her soon, 6 feet under ground, loser! I
wouldn't make it on your own Cos you're just like your mother, well, where is she now? You'll end up like her soon, 6 feet under ground, loser!
wouldn't make it on your own Cos you're just like your mother, well where is she now? You'll end up like her soon, 6 feet under ground, loser! I came
corrupted Nothin to do but sell drugs to the public - fuck it I'm on these corners hustlin eighths of crack From the day to the night, to the day come
, my pops was a fiend since sixteen Shootin' that, that's, that sh*** in his blood stream That's the life of a Crimey, real live Crimey And others know the half is behind me Day
sixteen, will her soul run dry?, Sixteen Hard sixteen, soft to the touch, but she's seen too much Hard sixteen, will her soul run dry? Hard sixteen,
get a plate now Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one Till I got (BAM! BAM!) thrown one Yeah, my pops was a fiend since sixteen Shootin' that (
