ride for miles, so daddy can you keep up Gaurenteed to knock that ass out like you been beat up Heat up, hotter than july, cause big girls don't cry
I dont wanna cry no more so its on. u caught up in the mode of the new Jim Jones problems in the world make mary jane a hit young mothafuckas gettin raised
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is
m the, reason you laugh, I'm the, reason you cry I'm the, reason you live, I'm the, reason you die I'm the, reason you laugh, I'm the, reason you cry
Marching in the morning down a path I've lately seen I was sleeping in this garden, am I still within my dream? The echo of my heartbeat is the beating
bout to pop if Likwit Crew is on the bill You can ask my nigga Phil how real this is, the weed SmokeFest '99 burn something to the beat Damn man, y'
160 beats per minute Is the only thing that I hear Everybody is dancing with themselves No whispering in each others ear Being hopeless at the DJ's mercy
When I, pass the word through these raps on beats It's fo' sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak To the streets, when I pass these beats
tail and a half sobbing wail He reached out and licked at their hands Remember I'm your best friend boys Oh no one could love you so true Though you may beat
CURLY (singing): Pore Jud is daid, pore Jud Fry is daid; All gather 'round his coffin now and cry. He had a heart of gold and he wasn't very old, Oh,
Curly: Pore Jud is daid, Pore Jud Fry is daid, All gather 'round his cawfin now and cry He had a heart of gold And he wasn't very old Oh why did such
pulse but I've got heart murmurs A shark circles our lifeboat till its fin folds The monster we created might choke in clothes I'm naked walking tight ropes
you wanna be Soft like me Hey, do you wanna be Or don't you wanna be Soft like me I used to wonder why big boys don't cry 'Cause they were always taught
been here many times before Hear the voices cry and see the sparks fly As before my eyes in the stinging smoke A streaming beast is at the end of ist rope
cry but no-one hears or cares And hope's the rope that keeps you tied in knots The torture never stops The torture never stops Your masters beat
little snare is dope Shoot the bass in the face but sometimes I carry a rope To hang the piano keys when they hittin every note I'm what no beat's able
When I, pass the word through these raps on beats It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak To the streets, when I pass these beats