Tekster:
Choke This Forced Hour

is the tag in the bathroom stall, check it This language is so captivating When we lose a rap nigga, the news is devastating Whether to the prison or grave, you know this

keep a jet on the runway, Sunday in Paris, London on Monday Back to L.A. This ain't rap, this is real, I could trick a half a mill' In three hours ma

baby. I'll forward this to your friends and family. Maybe I should reconsider this diagnosis, Lets think things out before we conclude. Commonly a virtuoso at these procedures, But this

A fat lady soprano, loads my ammo Hear my jam with a funky piano Easy on the wall but hard on the panel A fool smokes Kools 'cause he chokes on Camels

To This Day They Show No Remorse Their Idea Of Parental Guidence Would Be To Always Use Force What Makes This Tale All The More Gory Is That This Song

on the runway, Sunday in Paris, London on Monday Back to L.A. This ain't rap, this is real, I could trick a half a mill' In three hours ma the streets

back and never forfeit the day you have to go to war With forces that are armed upon the seven continental borders A mental fortress is essentials to absorb this

nigga, the cops ain't gonna stop a nigga (yeah) Let's get this money man, them hos come with the paper I'm done to go wherever this game takes us Look

source of hope or relief is an oasis that mimics the sun. I must find shelter, for I am in danger? A few more hours of this, and I will drown where I