HOOK:] I wanna see more of Him Cause I'm sick of more of me I'm a be like Zacchae In that Sycamore tree I wanna see more of Him Cause I'm sick of more
: Another day, another night got me thinkin' What is it with him, he's naturally moving slow I see him at the corner bar, am I dreamin' Surrounded by
day came when the ship returned The body of her loved one bore She sat down beside him, a last pained look At his young body once more Than she pierced
and the fire Verse 1: Seh she nuh care, a could har bwoyfren bredren him have money and bling bling so she go bed wid him Ketch disease see it deh
peace And though my soul was deleted, I couldn't see it I had my mind full of demons tryin to break free They planted seeds and they hatched, sparkin the flame
Father, hear a nigga down here Before I go to sleep Tell me, who do you believe in? Who do you believe in? [Verse One: 2Pac] I see mothers in black cryin
tip, now the punk's in deep shit Catch him on the streets, I'ma bring him to his feet, quick Pass the clip, I think I see him comin now Fuck the bullshit
it, bring it Parents warn their kids, about people like me I'm out of order, I turn your only daughter, into a transporter Before I die, I'm gonna see more
Through the mirror, the smoke and the haze So hard to see through the dark mystery The illusion was part of the game No the wild cannot be tamed Keeper of the flame
of hell on fire shooting flames can't be worse, G [Bizzy] Hell sent they call me RIP for a reason I'm on a road to see bloddy bodies just call me a demon
top notch; Or not watch, the haters take pop shots! It's non-stop shit talkin', [? ] the conflict Whoever slick talkin', I'm ready to harm him! Disarm him
me I miss him more than he'll ever know Tell him he was My everything He was more than just a flame And I need him I miss him And if you see him Tell him
The failed Don Juan in the big bow-tie Is very sorry that he spoke For he's mislaid his punchline More than halfway through a very tasteless joke The fraulein caught him
on the couch if you wanna cushion the blow Then stomp your fucking feet till you get to squishing a hoe It's panda-monium [? ] when you see him, damn
Porsche Garbage bag on one of the windows Spray-painted doors with the flames on 'em Michigan plates and my name's on 'em Baby, Shady's here come on get him
N, slash often Comma, burnin niggas often They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin Keep the block roastin Light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastin In my eyes you could see
Trife Da God) [Intro: Trife Da God] Uh-huh, whoo, just smoothing it out, right now My nigga Halloween, we gon' get rich this year, nigga (see) Sip on
