Indie in Indiana Hours early And this money burns holes in my pockets One foot after the other A ring A phone call from my mother "I know what was making
by the roadside At the truckstop to rest my tired eyes And I'm still pretending That you're still by my side Steady hands, get me out Steady hands, get me out
I mean it looked like it was tall Punch a hater up in his jaw; he didn't wanna shake my paw But I used to push that broad, on the other side of the law
still I stick with a traditional ?Hi, what?s your name?? I be the GD, I?m a cool gentleman check out my melody, the flavor sweet like your cinnamon. Feel
keep moving on.) So we will follow behind each other As far as we can go until we?re left alone. Whisper to ourselves just to let it all out We were
about it. [Verse 1:] Lately I feel like I've been slippin. And it's you that got me trippin. I can't control myself when I'm around you, oh. With any other
ears feel like they bleeding tears And heres the head scarf you left in my domain And heres the photos of our memory lane And there's (nothing for you around here) You crossed over the other
me, Endless questions, hopeless ending This bitter pill is pushing me away and now i feel Like there's nothing left to say and i pretend to Look the other
If there's love out there give it to me & help believe in unity People of all races & ages won't you feel me I want to extend to you my friend the new
lower classes The ones you left out, jobs were givin', better livin' But we were kept out Made to feel inferior, but we're the superior Break the chains in out
can be friends though, after you get broke like a window That's what you provoked, and now you're smoked out Lookin like a bitch, cause your whole fuckin posse, broke out
love I moved out and started really hangin I needed money of my own so I started slangin I ain't guilty cause, even though I sell rocks It feels good
Oakland, Brooklyn and Harlem And we ain't shootin at each other That's my motherfuckin brother, so Dave Duke, run for cover And all the bitches from the Klan Come feel
and Harlem And we ain't shootin' at eachother (fuck no), that's a motherfuckin' brother So save two, run for cover And other bitches from the clan Come feel
I've got this piece of change I feel strange I got so use to the hood That when I finally got out at first it ain't feel good I was just a baby still
pumpin slugs in these other thugs (GIVE IT UP NIGGA) Don't run out of breath Every step could be death 'til you blast And be the last nigga left, then
brother love I moved out and started really hangin I needed money of my own so I started slangin I ain't guilty cause, even though I sell rocks It feels
you feel when you hear a record like Tupac's new one? *static* [Man responds] I love Tupac's new record *static* [Dominique] Right, but don't you feel
