'd never said goodbye Chorus: (C)I hope I never (D)see those eyes (G)again (C)Eyes that used to (D)be my best (G)friend's (C)And we gave it all (D
yo K at the return address and see who it is from? " Waldo felt his heart beating. he could feel the vibrating footsteps. it would be soon. Marsha
had to hurry back so I could warn my man (HAVOC) Ya had me stressin little son,had my heart rapidly pumpin Niggas start a guttin behind the bushes duckin My
my album will get bought this way Niggaz slow down around me, I make em superstitious And one of my vices used to be wanting to look visually vicious But instead I use my
car Rewind time march 3, 1994 I was only in my teen's deuce-deuce in my Levi's When Nas hit the scene I was still rockin knee-highs Runnin with my brother
not false This is the kind you dance to, and not on 8-Ball Plenty of bass, the beat, and the rhyme That my homeboy Mr. Mixx carefully designed Hittin'
lil' homie twenty dollars just to shine my hundred spokes Coke with the Hennesey tends to be the remedy Family and friends to me Everyone pretends to be
and still I'm hopin Visions of prisons, maybe I'll be forgiven I know it's better in heaven 'cause bein here ain't livin Close my eyes and see nothing
Yeah it's gonna be alright, don't trip baby *inhales* It'll get better... *coughing* Ay do this Thug style main, Thug style When this whole beat drop
Could it be my destiny to be lonely? And checkin for these hoochies that be on me cause they phony But you was different -- I got no need to be suspicious Cause I can tell -- my
Cause strictly 4 my niggaz (Chorus) This is for the critics if you live up pick up my shit or I'll be back doin stickups I better see five stars next to my
my style Five shots couldn't drop me I took it and smiled Now I'm back to set the record straight With my A-K I'm still the thug that you love to hate
at your service, girl I can see that your nervous But I barely scratch the surface, like my last batch of girlfriends That I buried in my fuckin backyard. Still
lay back, crew [Verse 1] Here's a taste of my life, its bitter and sweet I put my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat I put my life on
azz, dem hollow-tips burn, baby burn I'm screamin' "Fuck the cops!", 'fore I 'round my glock Test my pistol on my bitch, nigga fuck dat box! Dat's how
cocaine, in your project lobby, And beat you wit my pistol like Kane did Charlie, It's T.O.N.Y.Y.A.Y.O., My whole clique got dough, my Os on the fly
man Niggas, I'm still grinding (yeah), I still hearing those sirens I'm still getting chased by those lights Only the light's lime, and my mic's on And my
it 8ways we represent it all my noggins is demented Better watch them cars that's tinted you don't want to be up in it Swish this tre like Hardaway send