wounds And softened scars It's my favorite kind of day Filled with the things we fear They'll find us where we sleep And fuck us where we breathe And
through infected wounds and softened scars It's my favorite kind of day filled with the things we fear will find us where we sleep, and fuck us where we breathe
the floor in a garb of black we must pay respect to the color we were born to mourn walk away me boys walk away me boys and my morning we'll be
gonna bring ghetto carnival thrills Where's that other little rich little fag Looking for Brandon cause we can't stand him I know my boys make the bass
feeling, woohoo, that tonight's gonna be a good night That tonight's gonna be a good night That tonight's gonna be a good, good night A feeling, woohoo
R.I.P weak bitch, we them county niggas, and we never betray the body we them bounty niggas It's going down my niggas, we got money and one penny Any
folks we on one (on one) We don't be trippin off that (nothin) Players about to be somethin (somethin) A music and beat be somethin (somethin) Where the Louie at man, where
fuck We must represent this Tennessee We drink a whole lot of Hennessey Nigga got a little hair on his chest And we be like Bill Clinton girl take it out ya mouth We
take care of that I'm pulling up to the crib lights out I hit her Nextel celli tell her to come on out Stepping out of the crib sexy looking bad as hell
you boys know when i take care of that I'm pulling up to the crib lights out I hit her nextel celli tell her to come on out Stepping out of the crib sexy
: Break bread (where them ballers at) Break bread-break bread (where them ballers at) Break bread-break bread (where them ballers at) Break bread-break
end up in the everlastin winter of hellfire Throw on this mix just picks your third eye out you cry out your words fly out, and sounds die out You remain
All the Federales say, they could've had him any day They only let him slip away, out of kindness I suppose Lefty he can't sing the blues all night long
would lovingly refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said, was the music business where everyone sells out. Where all the artists will eventually whore themselves to commercialism, the place where
be you but they took him to the cutting room As they hauled him away, he screamed out to his friends, It's in the air that we breathe in every single
gotta feeling, woohoo, that tonight's gonna be a good night That tonight's gonna be a good night That tonight's gonna be a good, good night A feeling
drug movers Girl barracuda Set you up for the kill Where you're really not ballin unless you got 10 mill I shine so bright I blind ya Cross my crew, we
