20", I said, "bet", she got in I drove her to a spot that was quiet and dark Yo yo, turned out the lights and found a place to park Now
n' penetrates trough the skin, but first through your clothes My platoons uniform is timbows 'n' capholes Nice dark 'cause you being followed like dark
Drug dealer, posing all this mother fuckin' jewelry Came from the crack house, back room, black out Smoke hit they lungs, make 'em UFC tap out No plan B
've felt down or angry, Wanted to lash out, punch a wall and be manly, But the question I pose now will offer you a plan B, And maybe some peace and quiet
da ding ding ding my name's Plan B and I rap 'n' sing sing sing. Da da da ding da da da ding ding ding my name's Plan B and I rap 'n' sing sing sing.
Street pain is a motherfucker guard me without a dot It's like a murder scene without a victims hotter, ?selmzyne? Like my face can't place at the scene
(B. Dylan) The festival was over, the boys were all planning for a fall, The cabaret was quiet except for the drilling in the wall. The curfew had been
me Shout 'em out every once in the blue and kid too I never rocked with, laws they keep away we cool I devised my own stimulus, plan I'm niggarish I'm
bustin off for every place I been though I'm hard to see through like lodges wit no windows Sparks the beginning of the end of the dark See I flood the
ain't shit I came with a gang that's brain dead And walk around talkin' to they selves like Rain Man My game plan is thick Your dames on my dick All my
(feat. Bun B., Lil' Wayne, Tony Mack) Ok I'm talking bout a Good girl gone bad Crooked world wrong pad Right mom wrong dad I sing this song mad but
pump, make my boys pull 'em out and make the whole-place-jump! But still i love to get to drunk, i love to get crunk and then swith to plan B. Have any
What, Crooklyn Dodger Number 2 O.C., yeah back in the scene muthafucka Me and Premo, you know, East New York Bushwick, Bedstuy, and all those good places
we got a jam to make we make sure the beat knocks, we dig up in the crate Once the vibe is straight, we packin the place It's the S.O.B., put the needle
and a self b eing lived in. This is the soft lip of NothingMuch in men. as over choice they bend... as choosing chisels character from the dark, from