enter your pin, research is on, can't find it, you're deleted, one dot missing, the program fails, zero plus one equals none, the file is there, then
to it Long-out scoop see if you can dash through it Cause when the burner split I'm burning the strip Through the closeup from my waist, the ? burn on
half dead, He must say no, but now he know how shady the Math is, Even murderous tactics, get better with practice, Lead showers, gun powder, fill the tellers burn burn
and a purple heart and a bone hangin' on a chain These times are like dynamite, a head-on with history Some fool's bound to burn it all down, don't care
know we served It may be good for the soul but it's hard on the nerves The very thing that drives you, can drive you insane Got a head full of thought
lose my head They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I?m alone Playing movies in my head
Yeah yeah, uhh, uh-huh Brand Nubian, yeah yeah, check it [Intro/Chorus:] You don't have to drive a fancy car Just for you to be a shinin' star No matter
BabyFace Fensta] It's the sinister, sick like clamidia Burn like no vagina, your retina Screwin like you hard, while I lick off your head Pussy upper
I got dough so I ain't upset I threw the drop on, Michael J's in the top gone The inside's butter like microwave popcorn Stop drawing, it's gonna be hard
and the hardest So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed Chorus 1/2 Verse Five: Ras Kass I peep game and get recognized, biting on the hard
My god", you say, "what have I done?" But you won't heed what's gone before, "What pity?", you say, "There is none." And so you drive the world to war
came running after you? And who would clean the sewers? Who'd mend my television? Wouldn't people lay about without some supervision? Who'd drive the
and dominates Burn through your armor plates Pipin hot and we not from concentrate Make the mass mob the market place Cuz we rock the black market tapes Hard margin (hard
You give me fire and desire like Tina Marie and Rick James do I dont care burn up the minutes on the cell Just turn up the music and feel it as hard
shit like the quick and the dead so i could cock back empty out the back of your head Do a drive-by go head Im quick wit the heater I shoot threw you
