always close to home It feels right, won't you remember me? You're alright It feels right, won't you remember me? On cold nights, just think of me and you're always close to home
grave, I will dance on your grave, Oh, when you're blessed with a grave to call your own, In my mind you'll be six feet closer to your home, Your eulogy
with they cops Run! They am' shit, plan shit, destroy evidence Fuck a case, I'm not comin' home when I'm fifty six Die with the heart of Scarface and
side, got a fat dick on your mouth wide I've come to take outside, nah do it right here Hop out later owning on everybody's home that you fuckin with
bounce with a short chickenhead in blue shades 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game Ridin through your block with six
but check it, every night in the news We prove them suckers right and I got the blues America... Get busy, Humpy The red, the white, the blue and The blue
said I'm with you toots the music was soft and there was wine in the glasses she started winking and making little passes at me she pat me close that'
with a short chicken head in blue shades 'Til the day I'm rich like Bruce Wayne I'ma kick raps like pimps blew game Ridin' through your block with six
I can kiss the sky How sick? So Sick that you can suck my dick 'Til my man Raider Ruckus come home It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home Puff
, you can't fake it When it's real, I'm cappin' like the snub-nosed, they pay me I love hoes, never go home when the club close I do shows, ride new
ahh (Tramp) Whatchu call me? (Tramp) Whatchu call me? (Tramp) Whatchu call me? (Tramp) Whatchu call me? Home girls, attention you must pay So listen close
to Un, they bad with they cops Run! They am' shit, plan shit, destroy evidence Fuck a case, I'm not comin' home when I'm fifty six Die with the heart
david on top of they post Soft wind blows, breath through my silk blue robe After I feast, fall asleep between my seven pillows Feel my eyes close, then
I'm double 0 seven, murder redrum wit my three fifty seven Brotha lynch hung, but the bitches call me kevin They try to make me think they close to me
motherfucker I wonder how they last Niggas had fades, and bushes and shit Just like on the street the third was runnin' it You couldn't step close to the blue
was in for a picnic surprise. Had nothin' to do with mountains. I didn't even come close to a bear. Took the wife 'n' kids down to the pier, Six thousand
shit, this the south side Got a fat dick on your mouth wide I've come to take it outside, nah, do it right here Hop out later ownin' everybody's home
Mother and two children play the way they always do As they raced home from the mailbox, a mother and her son Against a little girl of six years old,