Tekster:
Kid Sister Life On Tv

glocks, shit's thick What's the next move? My life's on the line Bullets in their clips and none in mine Sirens on, once again it's on I fell and then

he sucked his thumb, smooth for the kid laced with the big guns Stain to my Baltimore niggas that he on the run Plus he ill in the drums, heartburn for life

they ain't 'bout the diamonds shit He gon' commercial Who the fuck you think you rhyming with? I got the drama kid and my Obama whip Bitches running up on

can't front on nobody cause I pulled on a woolah Back in '86, first, foremost and final Rhyming on the corner, all I want to be's on vinyl I bum rush

me, hogging up my THC In my hood, everybody got a PHD I count on my fingers, how many niggaz got a GED My life done work more, than TV, and the DVD Fuck

in" She was cussin' and pacin' And wastin' her life at that linoleum floor He took him back to his old apartment Turned off the TV His beautiful broken hero on

sure the singer for the Kingsmen didn't know ?em either, If he did know ?em he didn't get ?em right on the record Cause on the record they sound jumbled

been rich been poor Lost friends lost hoods lost my dough Seen beef between Bad Boy and Death Row I seen deceased take the life for my sisters kid Six months on

[Verse 1: Fresh Kid Ice] There's 8 million stories in every city And Americans love to watch it on TV There's gays, lesbians, stripper nymphos Teenage