in my nature So four years now, that's what I've been searchin' for 'cause doin' dirt grows old when it's the same old thing That's why I try to take
and the Bronx old warehouse clear it out L's with my liquor sounds sew a helluva whisper Gasing up a hoe tell her you miss her Dealing with the old
tagged Primo give me bricks I get poppy cash ?? licks he'll let the shotty blast At nine years old yall was watchin ? troops Me the only fifth grader with the ?? suit
since you had to taste it Smash and takin whats rightfully mine Nigga betta check my profile Niggas is up in myspace eternally this be bones style (bone style
I told him, "Slow down God, you ain't wild You ain't been in these projects in a while Runnin' 'round with that old school style" Don't think these
It's the last good time in town Well, I could stand up straight, get a real job Stay up late with the same old mob But it hasn't crossed my mind lately Put on a suit
time The odor of old prison food takes a long time to pass you by Day upon day of this wandering gets you down Nobody gives you a chance or a dollar in this old
Toss out the lightbulbs, stomp on the cans Shake out the paperclips and old tin pans Keep out the garbage, boy what a bash! Doin' the trash Chop up the
You?ll never hear me knockin? an old pair of boots A man who wears his Wranglers for a Sunday suit The kind that ain?t afraid to get dirt on his hands
eat like good 'n' plenty Lyrically spankin' ya that's why they call me Uncle Vinnie And oh yes, I just appeal to the masses Young to old folks, the upper
he didn't even answer when they knocked upon his door Ol' Doc Brown was lying down but his life was no more They found him there in his old black suit
clientele And from the time I was only six years old I never forgot what I was told It was the best advice that I ever had It came from my wise dear old
checking me out Sipping on the Crystal Bitches wanna get wild Popping X and smoking dro' on the verge of my style These bitches calling, asking where the after party The Embassy Suites
be The old word is the new word is The old word is the new word is The old word is the new word is The new word is the old word The old word is the new
under the skin dig deeper under the skin. The dog tooth check or the herringbone The pin-stripe suit with the cheap cologne. Oh mirror shades or the old
somethin' that you oughtta know I've rearranged the livin' room to suit me I gave your favorite chair to charity That closet you insisted on, it's mine now So don't bring your old
I could play what I wanted No, never mind anything that Rooster tell you Nigga play stuff I like, k? Ain't nobody like my style, yeah I light my fire
some anacondas spit The Marilyn Monroe, of the ghetto I'm a sucker for cornrows, niggas in Timbos hey (I got old Timbos mama, let me, let me, can I hit