camp, left his shirt there now you barely breathin' slow leakin' look at your people weepin' I ain't have to quickdraw Mcgraw you I could Fifty Two block you switch my stance
back Four hundred bricks, and yup, the kids stance Sponsored by my cousin in Stan', maintainin' Got the call from Tony Young Montana, my son campaignin
to the E So get ready, 'cause I want everybody to say this with me Rock the house, rock the house, rock the house Now I cold rock a party in a B-girl stance
as you walk through this life Here's a little wisdom that'll help you get by" You gotta live and learn, you gotta crash and burn You gotta take some stances
squandering, he's been squandering And we don't do a thing, 'cause we're busy and think We're just wandering, we're just a-wandering like fools His son
me down, licked me up, every night with me You never made me feel I owed you for the deeds that you done Re-payed you with my loyalty, promised to give you a son
special price Haha, take Trummond's advice St. Paul Slim the best homie, none of its hype So please lil asshole, keep your mouth closed 'Fore your momma be like "Look at my son
. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty stances. How many
needed, in rappin', I breathe this Some pick up a microphone and can't even achieve this Oscar award winning your shit, I'm bored with it Stop copy-catting son
Yeah, Afu-Ra, the body of the life force Yo, you know how I do son Yeah, so why don't you Get on this mic and represent one time Some MC's you know they
Perverted monks style '99 style, know what I'm sayin'? Comin' at cha, this how we do Paraplegic, my fightin' stance, too strategic No shadows on my kicks
Perverted Monks style '99 Style, know what I'm sayin? Comin at cha, this how we do Paraplegic, my fightin stance too strategic No shadows on my kicks
non puoi negarlo, nel cuore hai un buco. Tu non sei sola lo so tu non volevi pero Se piu nessuno e con te Cerchi qualcuno, chi c'e... Si ormai son trasparente
to the crack of dawn If you're black or blonde Uncle sam is robbing you blind and putting shackles 'pon The minds of your children for real son Beware
the hospital (Today was a bad day) Verse 2 Tom Gist: All I got is my word, a pad and a pen Hey, them jokes ain't funny today Hey, old folks say son
a big fan, let's get something straight Well you don't have the guts to complain" Now your son is coming out to play Your son is coming out to play
no kids I scream at the mirror, curse, askin God, "Why me?" Run in the black church, gun in my hand, y'all try me I'm God-son, son of man, son of Marcus