Is this a place where it all ends? Is it your face or just another mask? When I see you again Let's play it like a game The things that we said Never
real-a I've even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs for one love [Verse Three] Sometimes I sit back with a buddha sack mind's in another world thinking
scene, I knew you would leave I got another motherfucking trick up my sleeve Smoke you like a roach, can I make it last? Like a quick half ounce, another
to be Another problem for tha folks on unsolved mysteries Ya thought i was dead Naw instead i just faked on yo ass And now i'm back wit that mask and
mop I'll ride ya, ride ya, just like a cowboy HI-HO SILVER, I'll be the Masked Marvel If it brings you pleasure, baby whatever Let's go to work, so I
bitches develop addiction and didn't keep they mouth, quiet when we fuck 'em and kick 'em, out the telly, Tell us we trippin' but she just another victim
Aye, bruh I'm a mother fuckin' goon So whatever chick I fuck with She got to be a goonette I'm her goon, yeah And she's my goonette I'm her goon, yeah
Tonight was just a masquerade Tomorrow just another day Let come whatever Tonight or never I'll through the mask away Beloved with all my heart I love
But yo, I always had this fear of gettin' paralyzed And sellin' drugs at the time was the easy way The easy work, easy women plus the easy pay It had me feelin' like I would do whatever
Sarah!!! Oh and one more thing, there's been several masked murderers spotted in the area. (Ch-Ch) (Chorus) Let's make fluffin utters, don't fucking mutter another
in this game, but the grind I'm lovin' Nigga we passed all that pushin', man it's time for shovin' I got the mask, I got the strap, soon as I find the
and learn to leap Or burn in your sleep Tryin' to get a little somethin, yo I peep You bein devoted, but you shoulda let it seep thru the mask you sported
of scene, I knew you would leave I got another motherfucking trick up my sleeve Smoke you like a roach, can I make it last? Like a quick half ounce, another
-hop for the nine-cinco Verse Two: Tasty like a souflee french croisant on Tuesday Rappers be boo-tay Goo-fy that's how they crew stay Bitin whatever
out windows and stare (sly, we fly) We fly the planes ourselves (sly, we fly) And if our records don't sell (sly, we fly) [kool keith] I put my mask on, another
in his driveway soaking wet, hope nobody heard me I'm out that muthafucka with about 4 pounds of that shamrock Zip lock, body bag, toe tag, wet t-shirt, black mask
Ziplock Then you'll be saying "Damn, Giddy died for this hip-hop" Or maybe it entail you to get locked To another 20 in the rock for them to give me my props Whatever
