Songtexte:
Hum Pocket

I reach in my pockets while you were climbing rockets now, two dirty right-handed gloves. I sleep by the bedside with a nasty dream in my eye, I'd hate

this I got one eye on the time clock I got my other eye on, the girl in the hall I got this ... rocket, hum, stuck right here in my pocket Waitin' for

My Hood Since A Snotty Nose I Come Trough The Hood Suicidle Doors I Use 2 Come Through The Hood On The Handle Bars Gat In My Draws Money In My Pocket

Drop top Benz I'm the man, girlfriend Yo, I'm the man Yo, I'm the man You rollin' with the man Turn the lights out Look in my pocket, I see a lot of

's a bitch (that's right) Everybody knows that you's a (what? ) funky bitch I know a red neck bitch named wylita, straight stack Biscuit in her pocket

'all niggaz ain't seein' Jack, shit Aiiyo, speak the truth Too short to let it hurt, some talk dirt And be the first slangin' hertz Freestylin' of the hum

Finn in his shrunken suit With his quick black eyes and black cheroot With his filled down teeth and a hobnail boot And his fists full of pistols in his pockets

'Cause if the sheriff catch a whiff of that fifth It'll probly knock him stiff Don't look dumb if my breath on hum Stick your hand in you're pocket,

That's been my hood since a snotty nose I come trough the hood suicidal doors I use to come through the hood on the handle bars Gat in my draws, money in my pocket