when i think everything's okay, you walk back in my life and reality slips away. just when i'm through picking up the pieces i always fell apart. i
(Intro): I don't know dude... I think everyone's all jealous and shit cuZ I'm like the lead singer of a band dude... And I think everyone's got a fuckin
I don't know dude. I think everyone's all jealous an shit, cuz Im like, the lead singer of the band, dude. And I think everybody's got a fuckin problem
Cut the skin to the bone Fall asleep all alone Hear your voice in the dark Lose myself in your eyes Choke my voice Say goodnight as the world falls
from gettin’ ganked, Now let’s play big-bank-take-little-bank. Tried to dis ice cube, it wasn’t worth it Cuz the broomstick fit your ass so perfect. Cut my hair and I’ll cut
need to cut off da air dat you breathe By any means it's Ja and E no in beetweens (E-Dub) Now we move agile, You and yo niggaz is fragile Like glass and UPS boxes, Shit
I done cut the braids, low cut, got my grown on Had a system label young money, money long long I be so L.A. got my chucks and my Locs on I was in
'll cock and shoot or cut your throat gucci mane fuck up the sound dead drunk like my uncle touch my brother dood n i'll cock and shoot or cut your throat
I done cut the braids, low cut, got my grown on Had a sister label, Young Money, Money, long, long I be so L.A. got my Chucks and my Locs on I was in
Your future's locked in mine The Chaplains and The Golden Guineas The Red Wings and The Crowns The Mighty Mau Maus, those Shines from Brooklyn They want to cut
Shook Hands Lyrics Yeah- HA!HA! (See I love this shit) You see what the problem is these's bitches dont know me poke theses got damn Ho's here we go
get off in this crew, he had to change So when James went to church this nigga did the same So he's steppin' back away from the cut But his vengeance
that you shouldn't play with G-Unit, Ruff Ryders'll get you shot down Aiyyo, fuck y'all niggaz talkin' 'bout, think you playin' wit? Double R, G-UNIT, the same ol' shit
Wanna get you home Wanna get you home, home Wanna get you home, home Wanna get you home, home I?m going home You keep on talking all that shit up on
truckload, backin' in, under dirt Lock on target, your wallet Your chains I left stains up, gorilla paw prints Sharp in garments, run out yo' apartment
I don't know dude... I think everyone's all jealous and shit cuz I'm like the lead singer of a band dude... And I think everyone's got a fucking problem
Stay madd fly, madd high In the ford expidie and I don't expect to die On some humble shit, I am on some rumble shit When it's on you should see the shit
can't see And I'ma say this shit quite frankly I give a fuck when free stylers step up I don't do it, tell you 'bout it on the next cut 'Cause right
