Pictures ripped up and rearranged could you tell them apart in the dark? you are your own worst enemy it serves you well displaced, redeposited where
when your life is shit, then you haven't got much to lose on Slaughterama! This next geek is guilty of the following: A Grateful Dead life for which he
t seem to come back And I turn and scream "what am I here for?" The nurses yell "you were left at the door" I'm a stranger, someone left me for dead And
rolling stones Shanghai'd in Shanghai Stood on in Tuscon Ripped off and kicked right out the bed Shanghai'd in Shanghai Laid low in 'Frisco Done in and left behind for dead
X's assassin as we die slow perishin', brain dead from a Erickson Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons a cup of it for those thuggin' it, y
retribution As loyalty, he would die for me, no excuses Loadin clips up, countin bullets carefully For self, though it feels like, he was there for me
voice again. I?m tired of talking in circles explaining what you don?t get; you?ve never lost, never loved, never ever fucking lived. You left me for dead
gettin' up out of that bitch tear my bucket down march with fo' fo's burned up on the fuckin' ground I left him dead his bloody head left on the concrete
different Paid no attention to my moms when she ripped it I was a hardheaded mother-eff, but had to step cause she hit me with a left, then another left
Still them 1-6-Ooh niggaz, straight up (whoa, hold up, hold up) [Inspectah Deck:] The nozzel aim, rip through ya frame for pocket change Fiend for the
I was an infant, I was different Paid no attention to my moms when she ripped it I was a hardheaded mother-eff, but had to step 'Cause she hit me with a left, then another left
this mad man hell he laid in Logical was hatred Some replacement killer came through, left small traces Engraved his chest Left him for death Left him
, bitches betta get up on it Sit up on it shawty, get up on it See when I spit up on it, shit up all over niggaz like a Harley pick up When I throw a
Mr. Smith) KCMO stand up, Young niggaz represent [Craig Smith] Hey, Ask me what I wanna be when I grow up I aint just gonna blow up I'm a star, I got
Burial plots, for my niggaz hit with fatal shots There's no need for us to spray up the scene I use less men, more powerful shit for my team Like my man
the river bodies found in the alleys Bring the yellow tape, body bags gettin' zipped up Heads blown off wit', they insides ripped up Mobile phones flipped up
's assassin as we die slow Perishin', brain dead from a Erickson Words are the medicine, two teaspoons for goons A cup of it for those thuggin' it, y'
