when i think everything's okay, you walk back in my life and reality slips away. just when i'm through picking up the pieces i always fell apart. i
like a earthquake Niggas graduatin' on they fifteenth birthday Some snortin', and some spikin' it That shit be cut heavy, and them niggas still be likin' it That (???), that shit
: Cut the skin to the bone Fall asleep all alone Hear your voice in the dark Lose myself in your eyes Choke my voice Say goodnight as the world falls
just the place to fix him To save him from himself" Curled up in the darkness Searching for the light The smell of sweat and shit Steaming through the
knife to kill you And cut you so fast when your blood spilled it was still blue I'll hang you til you dangle and chain you with both ankles And pull you apart
your, you crumple and twist You're grabbing my arm, you try to resist I do it again, it's all come to this I hate you, I hate your face, it's coming apart
from gettin' ganked, now let's play big-bank-take-little-bank. Tried to dis Ice Cube, it wasn't worth it cuz the broomstick fit your ass so perfect. Cut my hair and I'll cut
week What do I get? Put me in his will He's moving again Sign it like him Cut off that beep There go his morphine That shit is sweet Give me a hit The
up for product And little brothers ring fingers get cut up To show mothers they really got em And this was the stress i live with til i decided To try this rap shit
he's tryin to do the same, told me get up out his turf I wanted to talk to him, but that shit'd never work We was cut from the same cloth and what was
my dick all up in your shit Now I don't like rubbers, they hold me back Instead a hoe like (???) would rock that back I wont cut slack for the stuck up
leap. All blown apart. A landmine spring. A landmine spring. A landmine spring. All blown apart. A landmine spring. A landmine spring. A landmine spring. All blown apart. Did not expect this shit
got shit to do but harass, search tha nigga and took about a three in cash, I guess that's better than gettin locked up, or gettin jammed with that shit
God Coz in one way or the other we all puppets in this game It's like Life's a loom and the threads are the days And only God decides when to cut them
Cityyyyy, yeeeeeeaaaahhh! ") Bring you wolves... Hahaaa! Me and you... mano-y-mano I CUT YOU WITH A 40 OZ BOTTLE, nigga... Ain't ready for that shit,
him know, these Death Row niggaz ain't gonna never play Can you believe this nigga screamin that he got that shit we call the chronic? If he smoke the shit
re trying to hold back His dough sack And try to bozack And he go cock The 4 4 back You chose that So cut these ties And I'll rise Let's compromise Or
