| Caolition of the willing
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| No relation to the self-serving hermits in the higher positions
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| Correlation of a killing, in fact
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| The true and living, I exalt
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| Eradicates fault and ???
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| Product of prohibition
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| Young son of Ronald Reagan’s '84 crack era
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| Feel terror
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| In the mirror find reflections of the struggle
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| How the streets infect him
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| Impressions from an automatic weapon
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| Can’t teach em death
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| Fear the electric chair’s a short walk
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| But a long way down, not to ballpark
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| A paradise
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| Like a Peruvian flight
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| ??? |
| the horror of a hooligans life
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| Parallel to the lessons I learned twice
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| Tell me how lucky can one man be
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| That’s three
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| Will he make it out the game 'fore his legs break
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| Wandering, running for nothing but a way to get cake
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| All the long nights
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| Short Days
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| Blood, sweat and tears
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| Sit back and look at my life like
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| How’d I make it here?
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| This can’t be real
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| It’s all a dream
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| This can’t be right
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| Aphrodite calligraphy
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| Nigga tree
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| Mac ministry
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| Straight out the middle east
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| Malevolent militia
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| We forcing agendas on infidels
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| The records catch burn like single cell?
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| Your daughters love me
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| I get a lot of bush
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| 100 bars, three packs of woods, a lot of kush
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| I’m on your neck with a solid foot
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| You got the brolic look but you not a crook
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| Fuck out the way 'fore I do something to you
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| In the kitchen with coke, I might have put the heat to your cup of noodles
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| I style pricey, foul and shiesty. |
| Rhyme Icy
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| What I spit is just a fix for the pipe fiends
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| Vivid with my thoughts like sight-seeing
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| Kilos of ice cream got the house flooded with nice things
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| Nature taking it’s course, violent assault, my timing is warped
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| Diamonds over Nautica sport
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| Skipped college went straight for the pros
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| For those who don’t know, lets end the speculation
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| Scribbled rhymes out back of my hand, second nature
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| Started following the omens, realized my life’s sacred
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| All the time niggas ask «where you been?»
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| 'Fore you know it I’m gone in the wind, doing my thing
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| In another region squeezing my pen, burning the flame
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| Them aromatic backwoods clouded my brain
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| Back in my lane
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| Doing what I’m 'posed to do
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| T-shirts, sweatshirts trying to make mogul moves
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| Like Percy and Russel, I flex my mind and my muscle
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| In the meantime still intertwining with hustlers
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| If it’s 4 broke niggas I ain’t trying to be the 5th
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| On the turf since birth
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| I was cursed with a gift
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| I can turn a flower to a pistol, man that’s power
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| 100 miles per hour with a pencil |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Questions , by - Strong Arm Steady. Song from the album In Search Of Stoney Jackson, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп