Testi:
Strung Out Bring Out Your Dead

fucking thing I've dared to dream I've tried to live But I've played it safe again Just another slave to my vices now Bring out your dead Voices wither

thing I've dared to dream I've tried to live But I've played it safe again Just another slave to my vices now Bring out your dead Voices wither and crack

slow poke Your ass couldn't paddle in a row boat, you know ho Let me tell you a few things, don't care who your crew brings Cause when my trey-deuce sings

I almost had Cool J And further more I was put here to destroy the poor I even have them strung out, and start an all out war See jealous niggas bring

be bout your change lettin hang at all times, ready to fight high, duckin them blue eyes, ready to see ya moma cry every time you walk inside, ready to bring

B-O-N-D and Nore Queens to that Run you out your seat It's like you're hearing Queens Speaking , havoc on your cavoc When we touch your streets Brace

HEROIN IN YO VAINS I'LL GET YOU A HOUSE!) Addicted like they was Tic-Tacs, fa the crew I'm gettin strung out (SHOOT IT IN YA ARMS AND YOUR NECK AND YOUR

hollerin, screamin out for mercy minds of a lowest of enemies, ghetto mentality So blast it as I hit your head you're dead not disbelievin Got the toxic

spark then bring back the light Niggas is sweet like a Ms. Good Bar I leave ya ass strung out like a fuckin guitar So bring them hither, with the, could