I can settle down and be doin' just fine 'Til I hear an old freight rollin' down the line Then I hurry straight home and pack And if I didn't go, I believe
terrorizin? our old folks and brought fear into our homes And they ain?t got to hang out with the senior citizens Just tell them, ?Dammit?leave the old folks
streets Holla at 'ye, hit me with the beat Put me on my feet, sound so sweet Yes I'm the same old G, same goatee stayin' low key, nope Holler at God, "
the South Reclaimed the southern title, shut everybody's mouth Got some clout in the game, boys calling us the greatest But meanwhile me and Pimp is still ducking haters The old
under thirty years old but already he's a pro Designer trousers slung low 'cause his pockets stay swoll' Could afford to get up and be anywhere he go VIP at
in My Hood In My Hood In My Hood In My Hood, yo, yo [Killah Priest] What up little nigga, what you smokin on? Only 14, product of a broken home Out late
A dusty head brother mighta saw the bleach Teach I aims not, just to talk my sense Damn I gives not, 'bout the consequence Funk the stylistics, and jazz the vibe Laughs at
image to hold But those who criticize the youth might just be gettin too old We still travellin through life, findin what's right or wrong I know some folks
Just starin' at these four walls closin' In on me, feelin' like time's frozen Fadin' in and out, noddin' and dozin' Guilt tearin' up my brain like erosion
man on the track Lonely as the dagger in my back, staggerin fowards Fallin face flat, still spittin at you Still gettin at you, they're all laughin at
looked me dead in the face and said, "Stale" Then my cloaking device must of went dead Why? 'Cause the old ass judge looked at me and said This is our
you've written You said it, that's it, what will you look to be? What about it, mister, when you've had your last beer You laughed at family and laughed at
as soda pop I still dream about that Rocky Top you'll always be home sweet home to me Good ole Rocky Top Rocky Top Tennessee Rocky Top Tennessee Once two strangers climbed old
in mid July And I just hit town and my throat was dry I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew At an old saloon on a street of mud There at a table,
"So, you're going to leave the old home, Jim Today you're going away So, you're going among the city folks to dwell" So spoke a kind old mother To her
land He was wined and speeched and honored Everybody shook his hand But he was just a Pima Indian No water, no home, no chance At home nobody cared
bargin', farted was retarded When it spit on her we started to arguin' Here's a message to the young folks Don't try this at home Don't start it early