look how old we're becoming - what are we to do? we'll change our hair dye, change our footwear, change ideas to fit what magazines say trying so hard
anything I'm scared for ya because I'm so ahead of ya Take that to the head brother before I walk up on your bed brother And paint your blood in red
-mack eleven, the tone when I talk When I spray, niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk Color blood red, body outlined in chalk My rhymes, two zigs all nines Hard
, I cannot bruise Who wanna try a nigga? Hard to the God, come and butterfly a nigga (Hold that) Ooze on out (Uh, huh) Weeks later bitch go and throw your shoes
knock it Half the profit get flown out Vegas Me and my niggaz try an' break tables Stack chips like Connect Four While you prick's try and whip try and
claim ya shoes Once again it's on nigga Sigel hard like corn liquor I take you out this world like you was born nigga Butt-naked, covered in blood,
is forward aint no stoppin me try and Im gonna gun you down tonight tonight tonight. im gonna gun you down Jag: Fuck im about cash im from the school of hard
priest was putting up the fight of his life But he was old and he was bound to lose The boyfriend hit as hard as he could And knocked the priest right down to his shoes
on TV He ran packs across town like rhyme CD's And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks Stacking too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box Saving,
love the sight of blood 'cause my favorite colors red Im smashin suckers crashin suckers dreams And when it's Esham you start to scream Im hard
Little black girl, red dress Hot night with a broken shoe Little black girl, you shoulda never left home There's probably someone still waitin' up for
lives You see on TV He ran packs across town Like rhyme CD'S And Big chains, new cloths, Nike's and Reebok's Stackin' too much loot To squeeze in a shoe
He ran packs across town like rhyme CD's And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks Stacking too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box Saving, he promised
(feat. Ozzy Osbourne) [Verse 1:] Hail Mary full of grace I got the devil in my head again, my eyes blood shot red again.I thought I Escaped this trap
shoe But the road's narrow, and it's difficult to climb With the heat, the wind and the fallen rocks combined It's hard to stay in line, the course is
the tone when I talk When I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk Color blood red, body outlined in chalk My rhymes, two zigs all nines Hard hit when