: (Carl Perkins) I don't belong to no one I don't belong at all Got my face in the corner Got my back to the wall And pretty baby I'm restless, restless
don't worry about it Knowha'msayin, I'ma just go I'ma just pack my shit Peace out, aight Don't worry about it I still love you though [Chorus - Carl
fifty-six on the dizzice This is real lizzife, ain't nothin sweet God Sit down and think it through God Cuz comin all outta ya face'll get ya clap God
buy outside They want to dream outside They want to pine outside They want to -- outside They want to sleep They only want to be alone outside Carl'
in mushroom voice 2: i've been porcupine ah ha hey porcupine Part 2 ====== voice 2: that surly must have been the case voice 2: face to mate alot of face
Arm Four alarm blaze I blaze bitches with that one, two gage Put them in the box or the grave broke cut up and weave less How ya'll bum bitches concited Washed up carrers they pleaded Face
yuh face like bin laden gal Stress free yuh 'ave di serial Stress free baby, Good material Skin smooth eeh, You a wha barbie doll Yuh nah'affi hide yuh face
: (feat. Carl Restivo) Every woman have a snapping point You don't want her to snap no Someone stop Linda She just left the crib with a beretta She
You been givin' them all of your crush You got them standin' in line in a huff You know they all want to share your sweet stuff But what you gonna do
the Kardinal to be the face sit You'll get dis-graced kid Cut, bug up you and your baby because I blew Up the spot, Carl P gave me a clue Now we rocking
fuck And pay some quick to light a motherfucker up Next time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the place Or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face
[Intro] Uh Scoo do do do do do do Racecars and Weed Jars Nigga [Verse 1] I got a style for every bump in ya face, Greaseball ass nigga, Pontiac Judge
[Intro:] Uh Scoo do do do do do do Racecars and Weed Jars Nigga [Verse 1:] I got a style for every bump in ya face, Greaseball ass nigga, Pontiac Judge
against the ropes and semi-concious without no boxing skills Fear of it makes hair on my neck grow like minoxodil Watchin the clock is ill when, faced
fifty-six on the dizzice This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet God Sit down and think it through God, God 'Cuz comin' all outta ya face'll get ya
been around the world Verse One: Mase Yo, yo Now trick what? Lace who? That ain't what Mase do Got a lotta girls that'll love to replace you Tell it to your face
the swings These are a few of my favorite things Hagglin' couches, necklaces and watches Brethren that got no respect for the coppers My cousin Face
nigga it's a third ward nigga It's a third ward nigga and we bout it Verse one: {lil' ya} Misdemeanor motherfucker you can't face me Turned out I was