with my soul I can play any role No words can tell The stories my eyes tell Watch me when I frown You can't write that down You know I'm right
, for future reign Add one more kill to raise your worth It's so sad, cause it's all the truth you have Trade breath for gold There's no Armageddon
ll be home real soon, don't cry, it's iight [Chorus] I know it might seem like it's all good But this is what it's like in the hood I rep my set like
ll make a sad fan appreciate rap again Fuck around and forget just how wack it's been I'm a bad man (Why's that?) I catch bullets in my molars, body slam
you've hungered for When I speak it's with my soul I can play any role No words can tell The stories my eyes tell Watch me when I frown You can't write
moves all the way to Biloxi. That's what's playing at the Roxy. What's in the daily news? I'll tell you what's in the daily news. Story about a man
you've hungered for When I speak it's with my soul I can play any role No words can tell the stories my eyes tell Watch me when I frown, you can't write
schools. Runnin his story about his glory, it bore me. And his territory, it don't do nothin for me. So fuck him and the horse that he's ridin I'm barely
lady She loves me, she's waitin' at home And the baby she's makin' I tell you it's frightenin' How she trusts me so And all of the sad times the bitter
really sick she made her pinafore look like a dress from Rodeo, and clean white shoes lookin' Ferra than Gamo's, and white blouse seemed whiter than everybody else's
J. Baez) As I walked out on the streets of Laredo. As I walked out on Laredo one day, I spied a poor cowboy wrapped in white linen, Wrapped in white
white man, he said he played guitar. His wife's in jail and that broke my heart (the stories you hear when you'd rather be alone). Roller coastin's
As I walked out on the streets of Laredo. As I walked out on Laredo one day, I spied a poor cowboy wrapped in white linen, Wrapped in white linen as cold
Ho ho ho! Play it Grandpa. (Yeah, play it!) Let's tell them a little story about what happened this Christmas. (Yeah, tell them!) Christmas Eve
a sad fan appreciate rap again Fuck around and forget just how wack it's been I'm a bad man (Why's that?) I catch bullets in my molars, body slam boas
prohibition. You're the one who's guilty. I mean, c'mon, let's kick the ballistics here: Ain't no Uzi's made in Harlem. Not one of us in here owns a poppy