the black top ends We're chillin' on a back road We're laid back, swervin' like I'm George Jones Smoke rollin' out the window An ice cold beer sittin
me, will it grow? Dig my ditches in the golden sun I'd be robbing these trains if I could catch me one Now, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday's gone Got me stone cold
now one of his verses go Seen Styles and Sheek out, doin promo I was like "What Up?" and they was like "Uh-Oh!" I aint just get cold, see my block
her bus come down a little subway street She played a gypsy song with a three four beat And when I heard her voice She gave me vertigo She was a Cold
tell yo boys to pick ya up Out cold, head swole, eyes drove I know Fa'sho you ain't gone test me no more Yo block tore, yo Family in black clothes You
the 8, idle up the poe-poe Ima come down wit the deuce let the 3 wheel Poyo gonna hop juice sittin sideways, boys in a daze on a Sunday nite I might brang
the ghost of a chance with you Cold and gray, it's gonna rain all day And I hate to say goodbye Sarah Vaughan lingers on, but the black coffee's gone
butt naked in some socks I'm tho'ed off don't run me hot Cuz my glock pop like champagne tops Boom Boom pow like the black eyed peas Get a strip tease by a black
Crack back, Dog's tail, House rules, Rusted nails. Bare foot, Cold flaw, Black bricks, Lock the door. Hey, hey When you call my name Time to get away
The New York City winter comes in cold gray sheets of steel The numbness in his hands and feet is all that he can feel Alcohol and sterno turns a doorway
The isolation makes me wanna set myself on fire But I don't live anywhere Black Angel Black Angel Black Angel Carry me down Black Angel Black Angel Black
's a snowstorm and you outside gettin' cold Luck has struck one buck for seven every roll Throwin' snake eyes thinkin' a nigga gon' fold Stand down like four black
a streak of black against grey it feels like sunday everyday and there is noone left to phone well, if there ever was someone it is cold outside and
.O.M.E.O. Pistol packed with a crew'o fly slimmys Hat turned back in some Airwalk jimmys Never slackin' hoes I be mackin' Not wacked I don't try to act black
fences... Shangri La... and Jesus, Jesus in a bowl of germs (don't get scared dad...) after all god loves this whole of worms, but hates common black
day on the block I was speaking to a close partner A black Caddie rolled up (I shot ya) I felt my soul reach back thru times With my youth was cold and
I'm like a Bat Out of Hell, being pulled by Black Stallions. Waiting for Metallica to make another Black Album. Created a stone age cage, I'm fenced in
On a man-made lake, there's a sheet of thin ice Where unskilled skaters cut figure-eight twice That's sixteen, uncut, direct from the cold Head on a soul