as a corpse For the rest of your life In another coffin, of course Next to you is your wife A coffin is lonely A coffin is bad The shape of seclusion A coffin
Tradução: DRI. Un ataúd.
I'm movin I be hurtin ya I'm puttin on way to much drinks so it is curtains for ya Bitches I'm a blast and the bitches are never after These punk ass
] Nobody loves me Sometimes the world can seem so cold Looking through the windows of my soul I see, the true fan now I know (I know, I know, I know)
R-I-O-U-S you just lay down slow I blaze out in the six while letting the fifth go I think "Big" as if I was wanted on deathrow We tha world famous, murder
gettin money you don't have a care. Now r-roger that, r-r-roger that. R-roger that, r-r-r-roger that. R-roger that, r-r-roger that... Roger. [Tyga:]
Dogg Just a block and a phone call away I've reached the status, of a modern day John Baptist I'm preachin just what I practice To each and all, I got
Yeah, that's right, I'm talkin' 'bout me The R-K-I-E in the place to be I recognize and hypnotize, everytime I tenderize I specialize and open eyes,
Walked through the desert with Israel Traveled onto Mecca with Ishmael I'm crucified, resurrected - now ask how I feel A - D that I AM, that I AM From
is what I'm all about - c'mon (I) No gangsta you ain't either (Will) But I know that I spit "Ether" (Not) I shit across your belly (Lose) Show you I'm not R
and make ends meet Now was I, blessed with a gift, or cursed with a curse? I follow, hearse after hearse, with verse after verse And I'll be damned if I
you getting' money, you don't have a care Now r-roger that, r-roger that R-roger that, r-roger that R-roger that, r-roger that R-roger Young black
I'm all about, c'mon (I) No gangsta you ain't either (Will) But I know that I spit ether (Not) I shoulda crossed your belly (Lose) Show you I'm not R
im spaz happy, I heard a well known fag just took a jab at me, Yeah you already know wat I do to fools, So when I see you I aint gon be in the music
safe muhfuckers! (N.A.S.A. Music) Aww shit we bridging the gap! (N.A.S.A. Music) Weast coast , West coast, let's go! (N.A.S.A. Music uhhh)
and it ain't no place to run And plus I pack a Bible, a shovel and a shot gun And I'm go preach a funeral, ICP don't ride a hearse You think it's over