it. It's yours and mine, and ours alone. With your youth-culture buying game it's all numbers and looks, and I want out. I've never been in and I don
Translation: Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris soundtrack. Funeral Tango.
as well shine together Better now than never, business before pleasure P. Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better? Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight And
Now the funeral grounds are at last awash With the blackness of this frigid autumn night I've lurked into the graveyard with pick and spade in tow This
borough I think of you Sittin' on twenties, sippin' on Remy If you looked in dudes eyes then you woulda saw envy And maybe you'd still be alive, you
at basketball games cheatin' Yo, my cipher ain't complete I'm sorry for that argument we had On twelth street over a sale Knowing well that you was seekin' dough as well
on the strings that I play The fear ensnared in their captive countenances I've trapped Mummified and memorialized in wax well-woven and wrapped Waxwork
'd died Help me feel alive again 'cause I'm so dead inside Well, I'm a liar and you're my saint It feels so good being the one they hate And I'm a sinner
lady Drive out to the abandoned shack on Highway 16 throw the package of money out the window and keep driving and remember lady no police! Well my heart
a uzi, some a machete You wanna test fresh wes, well I'm ready The mind is a magnum, the rhyme is a bullet The mic that's a trigger *bang* and I pull
his house, seems like everyone forgot, like if he dissappeared in a black hole and never came out, but deep down in my heart, i see him still alive and
, I'm from the PJ's The PJ's, PJ's Yeah and to the teachers that said I wouldn't live My remains would be found under the Verizano Bridge Well I'm alive
make it Bring the move right on And if your fuccin luccy At your funeral they will play this song He lived life for love and good Now he's dead and
Funeral Mark this passing Show your anguish Cast your handful On this casket These eyes like sapless wells are dry As flowers shrivel up and die I've
funeral Never saw so many men slaughtered and I knew the ho responsible The nigga still alive in a hospital Midnight they crept in his room and shot
better get your work done Your Daddy's coming home at five And if you ain't all through with the chores you gotta do Boy, I'm gonna tan you alive" I
lady drive out to the abandoned shack on Highway 16 throw the package of money out the window and keep driving and remember lady no police! Well my
