've done Shoot me down, way down Shoot me down, way on down Shoot me down, way down Way on down Way down Way down Way down Shoot me down Way on down
things I've said You should've put me in the ground You should've killed me for the things I've done Shoot me down, way down Shoot me down, way down
' the four-twenty Motherfuck the bullshit talk - where the money? Years ago, a friend of me ask me to start up a company Duck Down's the name, rap music
which is poison Doctors injectin' our infants with the poison Religion misoverstood is poison Niggaz up in my hood be gettin' shot given poison In hospitals, shots
, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me
filled with less hope than the prophecies of Nostradamus Omega marks the ending of predictability, birth of agility Who will it be to test me and expose
Good, then let's begin.... Each character is represented by a different instrument of the synthesized orchestra. For instance, the part of Billy the Bird is played by
gonna catch 'em, and one day God forgive me, I don't know what got in me, but pin me, they're gonna all fall down, way down, face down. Ain't got nothin
down Taking no shorts, no losses, man Bone, come break 'em down Taking no shorts, no losses, man Way down, way down Nigga come fuck wid me now Krayzie
duty. Shootin' refusin' to cross me, punk, took 'em offs gee. Incarsed me, I'll be damned now toss me, the mossy slam in the shells of a 1 by 1, saw 2
see it in mine Money gon' make me Crazy this money gon' make me crazy baby [Krayzie] Hustlin,looks like me livin got me illin sinnin like everyday/ im
A O.G., esa, fool to the hole fa'sho So niggas slow your motherfucking roll 'Fore I come through with the same M-11 The Feds took from me, and shoot you
the other side of town Now I'm driftin' in the darkness, Heaven hold me down [Incomprehensible] but I know I'm born dyin' Feel the tears of the angels lookin' down on me
youknowhatI'msayin?} {You niggaz know how to shoot joints} (Put down the gun son) {Elmira, Riker's Island, coming from Brownsville} (Put down the gun
duns, it's all real hold it down You bust yours, we bust ours and stand on firm ground Pass the dutchie while I, handle the Henny thinkin You never catch me
Blood bubbled in her chest, cold air brushed against open flesh No room to rest, pain consumed each breath Shot twice wit her hands up Police questioned but shot
last - at last I'm free The Roots and SV be the family tree SV and the Roots be the family tree The Roots and SV and the tree is unh Come on Chorus;
scrimmage Shoot more words that Macho Man spit gism in the village CHORUS [Common Sense] Stimulated by a tree and drama I advanced on a branch of respect
