the battery tape deck A Judas train wreck anonymous suspect Hovering in carbon monoxide cremations Loners waste away inside of vacant locations Think tanks
gon' see it if you don't let me keep it to myself Don't make me start man, I'm from the heartland Where they might shoot you up, it's not your heart
32 Or report from 29 districts The revolution will not be televised There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down Brothers on the instant replay There will be no pictures of pigs shooting
is supposed to be flip bricks All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga I'll throw some fucked up kicks on Next is a small tank top, the
man holds nine, gotta chill star C-A.L.L.A.H, be the light of Shamar Work hard, Shamar, C-Cipher A.L.L.A.H Adapt bars snatch stars an' detach large,
up for forty-eight hours They weekend warriors but weekday cowards (Bustaz) All of a sudden everybody got so much heart You know some shit gots to start
and your boss is my man? L.L. this, L.L. that, soon as I walk in the place I wanna take my gun and shoot you in your muthafuckin' face You're playin'
, for movin, burnin da drugs Murda murda, kill kill If you put me in danger I aint trippin noo No limit niggaz no strangers I'ma tank representer till
a drugs Murda murda, kill, kill if you put me in danger I ain't trippin' on and ain't be needin' no strangers I'ma tank representer till I'm history
5 a key Birds, you haven't heard? I'm from that 3rd, bitch when shit get bad I put the dope up my stars on the curb And start hitting fools, in the
Shocker and yeah, that's me Tank dog all I wanna be, nigga I told ya Tat on my back, is that of a no limit soldier About face for a tru salute, to my tank
lieutenant, wise, big v, hope Prime suspect, c-murder, mac, fiend, mia, serv, craig b Klc, mo.b, and I'm silkk the shocker [master p] Fuckin seven stars
car, waitin for the stars to snap The scars on my cap remind me of the time We went to Fargo, with a car full of anxiety An angel's breast, and a tank
[Choppa] While you walking I'm running, while you shooting I'm chopping Got me confused with them dudes, but who is you to be knocking Now I be marching
you your fondest wish" I said, "Herb, my man, just make me fresh And I'm sure that I can handle, all the rest" With a snap of his fingers sparks began to shoot
words by Adrian Mitchell, music by Arlo Guthrie Victor Jara of Chile Lived like a shooting star He fought for the people of Chile With his songs and
up, for forty-eight hours They weekend warriors, but weekday cowards (bustaz) All of a sudden, everybody got so much heart You know some shit gots to start
Seeing that you're still here Seeing you fall from the eighth floor window Your reputation to smear Shooting in every direction Shooting stars inside our heads Shooting
