I ain't got no home Ain't got no papers I ain't got no job I ain't got no bucks Ain't got no time left Ain't got nowhere Nowhere to hide And this is
runnin New York Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did Yeah, they came while I was 'sleep Whispered in my ear this is your year {CRACK PREACH!} So I testify To burn
make it hard Hard to speak? Does she dress the part? I'm sure she'll take some getting used to, Brother she will never be me Feel the burn, take a spin
hide Won't let you hide I break bones stealing mobile phones And I'm cuttin' deals for these homeless meals Making idle threats using Chinese burns As you load my head
Evil winds howl 'cross the frozen plain Demons fury floods my mind again Multitudes of homeless wander lost and scared Into the burning lake of fire
me 'round town Walking around with my head hung down I'm so lonely, I'm so lonely And don't be surprised if you see me on the train Like a homeless
' New York Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did Yeah, they came while I was 'sleep Whispered in my ear this is your year (Crack preach) So I testify To burn
the TV,they showing psychopathics and i see me) (And ya calling me a homeless hobo, while I'm laying on my suede couch listening to mojo) {Snipe ya in the head
the TV They showing psychopathics and I see me And ya calling me a homeless hobo While I'm laying on my suede couch listening to Mojo Snipe ya in the head
a human chain While the orphanages overflow The children playing in the acid rain Change the channel, God's right hand man Says send him money or I'll burn
'Cause their twisted propaganda can't erase all the dead And the pile of corpses pyramid on top of our heads Or never mind, said the shotgun to the head
touch the troubled waters Poverty done deya, It's a global thing Crime and violence mek we head start spin, oh, what a thing You see the homeless youths
this ain't n b high You niggas ain't got no balls and won't die I'm a certified killer, with *stock in the game* Burn marks on my hands from the glocks
My phone rang, I converse with the busy signal Why can't they let me die in pieces? I don't want any more food or condolences, let my people go Burn off
are real this aint N B HIGH You niggas aint got no balls and won't die I'm a certified killer, with *Stock in the Game* Burn marks on my hands from the
strapped to my fuses incase the hackers snatch the plumage. DOSE ONE- so you mean these things are worth money now drifting off this is the who you calling homeless
