| Roll me a cigarette dog!
|
| They got me feelin crazier than a motha fucka.
|
| I got bad ass in this motha fucka.
|
| Puffin on life.
|
| Hopin that it gets me high.
|
| (makaveli the don, representin the outlaws.)
|
| They got a nigga goin crazy.
|
| (bad ass representin the lbc)
|
| (what cha wanna do. you know how we do.
|
| Time goes by.
|
| Puffin on life.
|
| Hopin that it gets me high.
|
| They got a nigga goin crazy.
|
| Feelin crazy.
|
| (tell em bout it.)
|
| Last year was hard.
|
| But life goes on.
|
| Hold my head against the wall.
|
| Learn the right from wrong.
|
| They say my ghetto intrumental,
|
| Dextrimental to kids.
|
| As if they can’t see the misery in which they live.
|
| Lately, for the outcome, damn i’m reckless.
|
| Check it. |
| you don’t have to bump this but please respect it.
|
| I took a minus and now the hard times are behind us.
|
| Turned into a plus, now they stuck livin blinded.
|
| Hennessy got me feelin bad. |
| time to stop drinkin.
|
| Rollin in my drop top jag.
|
| What’s that cops thinkin?
|
| Sittin in my car watch the stars and smoke.
|
| I came along way but still i got so far to go.
|
| Dear mama, don’t worry. |
| i’m a watch for snakes.
|
| They’ll set you that a lover. |
| but it’s hard today.
|
| I got the letter that she sent me and i cryed for weeks.
|
| This one came out when i tryed to speak.
|
| All i heard was:
|
| Chorus repeats
|
| I see blodds and crips runnin up the hill.
|
| Lookin for a better way.
|
| My brothas and sistas it’s time to bail
|
| Cuz even thug niggas pray.
|
| Hopin god hear me.
|
| I entered the game. |
| look how much i change.
|
| I’m no longer innocent. |
| casualties of fame.
|
| Made alot of money, seen alot of places.
|
| And i swear i seen a peaceful smile on my mama’s face
|
| When i gave her the keys to her own house.
|
| This your land. |
| your only son done became a man.
|
| Watchin time fly. |
| i love my people do or die.
|
| But i wonder why we scared to let each other fly.
|
| June 1−6 7−1
|
| The day mama pushed me out her womb, told me «nigga get paid.»
|
| No one can understand me. |
| the black sheep. |
| outcasted from my family.
|
| Now packin heat. |
| i run the streets. |
| a young runnaway.
|
| Live for the day when ya die i could hear ya say.
|
| Chorus repeats.
|
| God help me out here, cuz i’m posessed.
|
| I need the root of all evil for my stress.
|
| Cuz now it’s like a stong prescription drug.
|
| It’s got me addicted to the pleasure and the pain it’s inflicted.
|
| Something about the paper wit the pictures of the presidents head.
|
| Damn it’s like a motha fuckin plague. |
| it spreads.
|
| It’s epidemic. |
| forgotten, forgotten it got worse.
|
| I keep my head on straight, makin money cuz it’s cursed.
|
| Makin money makes a difference day by day
|
| So i gotta stay paid, no doubt. |
| day in and day out.
|
| This life is like a vicious cycle called fightin to live.
|
| No matter how hard you try, it’s in death.
|
| You gotta die.
|
| Bottom line: peers didn’t make it to the years to come.
|
| Dear life doin right or dear life leavin dumb.
|
| Who has the answers? |
| i wonder. |
| i turn to my elders,
|
| They aged and experienced, but they can’t even tell ya.
|
| Or tell me there’ll be light at the end of the road
|
| Cuz they don’t even know.
|
| A million thangs run through my mind.
|
| You ain’t gotta be in jail or be doin time.
|
| Chorus repeats
|
| Feelin fucked up in this bitch.
|
| Smoke half a ounce to the head.
|
| Drop the top. |
| indo. |
| hawaiin. |
| lansbread. |
| buddha. |
| all that shit.
|
| I’m fucked up in this motha fucka.
|
| And hennessy don’t help. |
| and hennessy don’t help.
|
| Thug passion in this motha fucka.
|
| Makaveli the don puttin it down to the fullest.
|
| Maximum overload. |
| 3 day theory.
|
| Killuminati to your body with the impact of a 12 gauge shoty.
|
| Doublized slugs. |
| no love. |
| straight thugs.
|
| One time for my niggas in the jail cell.
|
| (one time for my niggas locked up.)
|
| One time for my niggas doin life in hell.
|
| One time for my niggas on death row.
|
| (for my niggas on death row. weat side. california syle. l.a.)
|
| One time for my niggas livin broke.
|
| (you know what time it is. no doubt. get high. puffin on life.
|
| Wonder if it get me high. |
| yeah. |
| crazy.) |