on so if you need me hit me Use the code black or blue? I'ma use black Me and my boy gonna have some Okay, tell Krayzie, Wish and Flesh have them thangs
-up and its on We got them rides whatever you need My nigga just step next door We fully equip with automatics Police detect us, let's roll, roll, roll And
Don't Much Wear Em Lil Boosie Webbie And Phat Oh Yeah This Shit Right Here Gone Jam I Got Tha Black One The Grey Ones Da White And Blue Ones Too I
comin through in a nigga trunk is tha nigga named Tru and I got that boy Key-C in here and that boy Poyo and these hoes ear and we comin through wit that
-da, bah bah, bah-da da) And the whole world loves it when you're in the news (Bah bah-da, bah bah, bah-da da) And the whole world loves it when you sang the blues
-o seven two fourteen and two await I'm gettin' blunted out with them niggas in the fuckin' gate I got on my all black steady walkin' up inferred Under my black
if you need me hit me. Use the code. Black or blue? I'ma use black. Me and my boy gonna have some. . . Okay. Tell Krayzie, Wish, and Flesh have them
on! I'm falling down upon the earth and singing truth in rhyme. [DMX] Come on! If I was a rolling stone, I'd roll until I flew. [DMX] Come on! And if
And I roll like I roll I roll like I roll I got an open road And a restless soul The Rolling Stones on the radio And I roll like I roll Cause' I roll
for nothin' They leave and come back stuntin' like they 'bout it and wasn't Better watch them some nigga or stop them some nigga This a nigga wit a black hooded and
can wait To sing your blues away And hope for better days And pick an old song Then we'll dance in the dark It's that needle and thread Stitch up my
got a Big Bang Theory, my hardcore committee Gon' rock and roll the streets and shake the whole city Chronic low ridin' bitches with silicon tities We gon' bounce and
) It's hydro stuff L's, six plus sells Stones heavy on the scales themselves, excel Straight G's, moneys and proprieties Black F-G 15's, weighin' trees and
you use a amateur, just empty the register And if it was a fifth, then we'd all be stoned But if I don't drink and drive then how the fuck am I gone
birthday we comin through in a niggas trunk is a nigga named Screw and I got that boy Kici in heah and that boy Poyo and these hoes heah and we comin
I see your sweat roll down your cheek And your soft and sweet, your talk is pork Get murdered in New York when I enforce the heat And the cost ain't
brother with his bike And he's got Guthrie running in his bones He's the hobo kid who's left his home And his Beatles records and the Rolling Stones
falling down upon the Earth And singing truth in rhyme If I was a rolling stone I'd roll on back to you And if I was a garden I would bloom in black for