, tele-sales made me a man.(x2) And everything was going to be ok, but the making of the man was the breaking of the back upon the rock of everyday hostility
my chest, telesales made me a man. and everything was going to be ok, but the making of the man was the breaking of the back upon the rock of everyday
Traduzione: Million Dead. Breaking The Back.
don't touch the floor You're never gonna see 'em no more The dawn starts to break Your heads a big ache You're lyin' in bed You're back from the dead
heads homies and send them phony motherfuckers to dwell with all they dead homies Fishin for fake niggaz, observe and shake niggaz The only way to see six figures, is break
under brush Through old majestic growth To defend itself the forest will come to life Encroachment against humanity, running root breaking stone Rise up feed off the dead
Streets Deciple slide-in me Status reports the badest you caught Walk in the black top wit fat rocks and had his newport I cant stay away like Too $hort I gots ta break a bastards back
ask cat, go get a mask and a gat Snatch a nigga wife, and make her tell ya where them bitches at Mafia style, break the code and I'ma break your back
sleep When you eat They're always there Looking to bury the living And bring life to the dead, to the dead One hundred years of waiting Thirty six thousand days Fifty two million
deep Them bitches tonguin' in the back I'm gettin' some head up in the frontseat She like, "I got this" you control the cockpit While her partners in the back
I pistol whip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin Musician and flatten composition A pain, I'm like Saddam Hussein Still alive lookin at his dead children
wish a nigga would yeah I wish a nigga might Everything is all good everything is alright Was you in flight like smokin an ounce with back accounts Bigger
sure that you're still alive Crystallize, we keep it live, y'all can't see me Banish satanic verses like Ayatollah Komeini I break in half, setting
believe it I wouldnt thought of it in a million years he'll do that to Geezy I had a dope habbit and markie was on my back so he turned his back but look
long lac, hella beat in the trunk Baby kick back, it's hella heat for the funk I dare a motherfucker to step to the Lo One too many drinks, now he's dead
murda man I'ma come back to serve the game break em on down and hurt em man I never give no mercy mercy after thirty five million still thirsty thirsty
