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Don Martin Three

: To watch crippled hands create a fire, to sketch an arrow, to burn beside her. The blood of pattern, the sound of eggs drop, our lips of old, oh how

: I'm seeing long strips of wheat, and dry winds, I'm seeing that you're no longer alive, and that I hold against you. I'm seeing anxious lines of automobile

don't try to follow Cause just like Waco, I can take fo' -- -- ATF, to they death Bust a left on Western, go and get a room Don't want to be a felon

could explain it baby It's just the world is kinda crazy baby Ain't no pretty way to paint it baby Don't cry, dry your eyes [Verse One: Will Smith] September

'm multiplyin' my money through different avenues Took many to war, shook never before For my mother I applaud Ms. Afeni Shakur Ice insured, fuck life insurance Three bad bitches, it don

don't fear none of y'all In my heart, it burns this fire And I don't fear none of y'all In my heart, it burns this fire And I don't fear none of y'

make ya nose bleed Dope so pote and my fiends done OD'd For three hundred and fifty a pop I'll sell you a dro seed You really don't know me and thats

2: Eminem (with Lil Jon in back round)] You don't want no problems with Harlem You don't want no problems with the boogie down Bronkster (Yeah!) You don

on soap Landed on his back, with his gat, now that's dope We got three minutes, nobody seen shit Somebody might have heard shit Singing on some Martin