I'm off to a lucky start and all these changes, All I got and I know it's wrong, Why can't I analyze this? What does it mean to me? I wanted everything
Übersetzung: The Starting Line. Dreißig.
when it wiggle I mean she hot like a kettle Well me I'm strapped with the metal when I go hard for the bread So I line you up and I dent you, you run
s the way I prefer Your forty-four might do damage But see my streetsweeper's much worse My shotguns are cocked Make sure you're stayin' in line Me twenty
: Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat, the Cat of the Railway Train There's a whisper down the line at eleven thirty-nine When the Night Mail's ready to depart
scare you to death Sign it and seal it and send it to friends But don't mention my name Don't make any long term plans In thirty-six hours your fortunes
them drugs is not mine) I hear all these muthafuckas out here on the grind The cops picked me for the hurt, and chose me out of the line, I said (Them
linen I be in the club while my chrome still spinning Ladies line up in a single filed line Just to hear the black Sinatra, sing 'em a few lines like [
his dinner nap Had thirty minutes to rest before the bell The mine boys hollered," Get up whoever you are and get a pickax Mine me enough to start another
more coming like Michael Mark, fire Make you searchin' for tires Runnin' through ways to make you well Thirty two ways to break you down Thirty two ways
world and now we laugh 'cause it's all faults (Chorus starts here) either way ya go ya gotta pay the cost of the mic wind Chorus repeat (last line is
loc' it up, we back, we got our focus up St. Lunatics, nigga know that, know that Supreme team, if we lose you open your minds Start readin some things
hate me now.. [Puff] I like this.. I like the way this feels [Verse 3] It's a thin line between paper and hate friends and snakes, nine millis and thirty
fear Assault wit intent To kill your whole regiment it's real Startin wit yo president, duckin my dart gun Tear apart son - you don't want it then don't start
m a round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my work boots It's a Thin Line Between Love and Hate It's a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty
