Where you going? Do you even care? Driven to distraction Drives you to despair You just spin your wheels I recognize the panic That your confidence conceals
Where you going? Do you even care? Driven to distraction Drives you to despair You just spin your wheels That your confidence conceals I recognize the
Traduzione: Tutte le. Auto Wreck.
all the lights All the lights have died Slow dose of hell stripping what's left Sleepless for days on end And ingest life on all sides I can't be reached
nothing damm thang change All y'all niggas, y'all can't fuck with me we throwing up the C Tell me what y'all want to do and how y'all niggas really wanted
I leave you wet Bloody, sticky, holes in your Dickey's Oh what a pity, lookin all shitty My Winchester will get the best of ya Hand grenades will fade all
to die young and to try to oppose to interject new ideas to infect to replenish to keep in check to finish what we wreck while you live on tired & old we auto
't bother Prince Poetry, the man, not a myth I'm not the type that you can walk up and EFF with Don't sleep, just peep the whole damn connnnn-cept I'M OUT TO WRECK
[Rampage] Drop it Uh, ladies and gentlemen Chorus: Y'all siga siga sing it x6 (Flipmode is da squad) It's the Ramp auto nigga you've been waiting
seen 'em yet When we step on the set, y'all be quiet as kept When we come through, y'all just move through the left All that 'rah-rah' talk, you keep
caine It causes pain, we felt your death But I'ma keep rapping, to my last breath The S.U.C., is all that's left And we stealing all shows, like auto
I leave you wet Bloody, sticky, holes in your dickey's Oh what a pity, lookin' all shitty My Winchester will get the best of ya Hand grenades will fade all
Look at this nigga, stuntin' in front of Justin's, actin' silly If it wasn't cops all over, I'd smack him with this milli You hoe, niggaz, move a brick
it i was feelin bionic,lookin at me rollin a blunt and im huffin and puffin and i cant get enough of this stuff, and im loosin my logic, you can smell all
in clubs Been in the hands of mad thugs They feed me when they load me with mad slugs Seventeen precisely, one in my head They call me Desert Eagle, semi auto
that I doubt, smack 'em in the mouth Throw 'em in the yoke, then I knock 'em out No doubt, Freddie Foxxx files twenty shot auto glock Benny blind Puerto
the E, try harder, don't bother Prince Poetry, the man not a myth I'm not the type that you can walk up and eff with Don't sleep, just peep the whole damn concept I'm out to wreck
