number three Tom Jefferson stayed up to write The Declaration late at night So he and his wife had a great big fight And she made him sleep on the couch
{Hello, I'm Kris Kristofferson On November 8th, 1965, the 173rd Airborne Brigade on Operation Hump War Zone D in Vietnam were ambushed by over 1200 V.
house,yeah (verse one) You go on and on and you don't stop Got sticky sneakers from the blood of a shot cop Belt and a club,I'm leaving tracks on the
on a shoppin' spree You in the club, goddamn all drinks on me 'Cause I feel good, yeah I feel good, 'cause I feel good One shot for my niggas in the state
apostles get smacked with rusty masks Preaching that God spook, Napolean remains hostile Cast were burning nostrils, ruger barrels on your tonsils A prophecy, blood currency, state
inside your garden The sugar in your tea The knock upon your back door The twist that turns your key Am I the sweat you feel on your hand The shadow on
Arabian wind, the needle's eye is thin The ships of state sail on mirage and drown in sand Out in no man's land where Allah does command What good is
last night Em G C G And they blew up his house, too. Em G C G Down on the boardwalk they're ready for a fight
persons on the opposite teams oh, yes it's curtains No bullets burpin' oh just lyrically twerking Making a statement, when you freestyle and your mind is in a free state
, American made My country shitted on me She wants to get rid of me 'Cause the things I seen 'Cause the things I seen My country shitted on me She wants
light one All them *** I got ta fight one All them ***, I got ta like one Our situation is a tight one Whatcha gonna do, fight or run? Seems to me
Locked in the state penatentiary but dog that ain't shit Better make your money baby and pick up a couple of guns on the side So when you ride and you
' on TV Easy does it, do it easy, what it is number one Better check the score Here we go nigga, don't wanna fight no more But I'm ready for you hoes
(Krayzie's on the thugline, thugline, thugline) Load up your shit and get in the car (Come on, come on, come on) Come down to ride on these imposters
I'ma put you on your back, bitch Ain't no half-steppin', I'm comin' at you rough-like Shootin' to kill 'cause back in school I had enough fights Whenever
more I stick around the shit get more fucked up That's why I'm back on Holloway gettin' fucked up Thinkin' back on how it used to be when it was all good
killers go dumb, usually death is the outcome Welcome to the jungle, where kidnappers haunt you The streets, they really want you I'm serious, no smile on