you will inquire, ask of your Father and he may tell you of his brightest Son No Michael not this time, I've been waiting for oh so long No Michael
: (feat. Ras Kass) [Hook] It ain't nothin nice [x8] [Ras Kass] Son I be skimmin through the billboard top for an R&B album Wonderin my outcome Want
had a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres I murder you Danger had me turned into a mad man, son of sam, bitch, I'm surgical I'l allergic
There's a party in my honor at my house, tonight A few of my ol' drinking buddies will be droppin' by They'll come to celebrate my graduation After eight
The first time ever l saw your face I thought the sun rose in your eyes And the moon and the stars Were the gifts you gave To the dark and empty skies
to squeeze tight To awake neighbors for acres I'd murder you, I'd gauge and have me turn into a mad man Son of Sam bitch, I'm surgical I'm allergic
baby baby baby, uh! / Another one bites the dust / Dust mite / Might an emcee want to bust a mic? / Michael Jackson / Son of Sam / Samson / Samsonite
a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres I murder you Danger had me turned into a mad man, son of sam, bitch, I'm surgical I'l allergic
slow call me a retard Can't hear nothing but the music I'm slippin' Dark as hell and water drippin' Parrish Smith mentally sick Serial rap killer like Dave Berkowitz Yes, the son of Sam
his pants When he saw us at Summer Jam Lucky I wasn't there I had to bury my man Or I would've terrorized New York like the Son Of Sam What you mean
the money, I pull the trigger and damage ya Boom, taking life more serious I may sound lyrical and very mysterious Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill more A son of Sam
welcome the prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The last four were "We have no son".
prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The last four were "We have no son." Some wounds
in his pants When he saw us at Summer Jam Lucky I wasn't there I had to bury my man Or I would've terrorized New York like the Son Of Sam What you mean
nigga had a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres I murder you Danger had me turned into a mad man, son of sam, bitch, I'm surgical I'
radio and turn to the gutterman you and your R&B boss make a good couple fam I'ma catch you at lover's lane like Son of Sam Got the revolver in my fuckin
tight to awake neighbors for acres I'll murder you, I gauge and have me turn into a mad man Son of sam bitch, I'm surgical I'm allergic to dyin, you
Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam Sailing across the sea to be with my Uncle Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam Sailing across the sea to see my Uncle Sam I am