for mad blocks?) Spare a match for the most distorted orchid in the path. Assorted orphans coursed in a morbid orbit forward the traps. I make a tentative
번역: 이솝 락. 일치를 모아요.
ya hood in a Mr. Softee truck Then pull a mac out a box of snow cones Yeah, ya little fucks Gimme ya fuckin' money [Incomprehensible] Uhuh, check it I'm hotter than a
make a million Gotta get myself a million Gonna turn that into a billion If not, then I just won't die All my Midwest niggaz tryin' to make a meal Tho
, from the beginning My practice extending across the atlas I begat this flippin' in the ghetto on a dirty mattress You can't match this rapper slash
ll rip off your neck And eat your garlic, murder, from New York to Charlotte It'll beat a nigga down like Sonny Carlton, when he ran through a gauntlet
I could spot one Them lame ass niggas make me hit you with a shotgun Tote tag, plastic bag, yellow tape to match Out ridin' chalk lines, shawty it's a
' will disperse Ya easy to murk, you'll need you a nurse Why beef with these jerks When I can put a seed in the dirt And try to grow a tree out the earth
(whisper)Strike the match Flame on motherfuckers My gun I aim lower My words is a flame thrower Watch me end yall with somthing that'll make your
Never leave me lying on the rail road tracks You make me wanna scratch Beaten to submission in this sparring match You make me wanna scratch Forget about resistance Baby call this match
adore, There's time to rob him all the more The other three hundred and sixty-four. Relations, sparing no expense'll Send some useless old utensil, Or a matching
When you set a match to your heart Fueling it with bitterness and doubt That's the place that once it starts No amount of tears can put out I know you
When you set a match to your heart Fueling it with bitterness and doubt That's a blaze that, once it starts, No amount of tears can put out I know you
asked the higher powers if they could just spare a drink Did they answer my cries? I was a bit preoccupied I toasted them, boasted to them the day they met their match
got no lamp I got a hollowed out gourd I eat my dinner off a Ouiji board Skulls hanging off of my Christmas tree Blood dripping off my easter bunny Got a
Now where we at, so when you try that, Lunatics got my back It's a fact, you see a blunt you supposed to match It's a fact, Lunatics gonna put St. Lou
really, he's a uh, in a mental hospital And that thing really doesn't work You should get a real one, man What's your fuckin' problem?} {Got a night
