Days of despair Throbbing nerves and rotting lives Forging futures into my body Tearing away at my life At the bottom we stare Looking up to someones
face, shit My nine mm on my waist, shit I'm a problem Shoot up your place shit Let a few go Then I get low Blazing Haze again The Masters, The Wall Street
shit My nine mm on my waist, shit I'm a problem Shoot up your place shit Let a few go Then I get low Blazing Haze again The Masters, The Wall Street War
: (feat. Mos Def, Freeway, The Harlem Boys Choir) [Kanye West] We in the streets playa, getcha mail It's only two places you'll end up - either dead
: Typed by: ruffryda088@hotmail.com [Kanye West] We in the streets playa, getcha mail It's only two places you'll end up - either dead or in jail Still
: Boy & the street choir make a lot of noise The interstate it runs away A blur of head and tail lights splay In all directions from the place you
shit My nine mm on my waist, shit I'm a problem Shoot up your place shit Let a few go Then I get low Blazing Haze again The Masters, The Wall Street
All God's creatures got a place in the choir Some sing low and some sing higher Some sing out loud on the telephone wire Some just clap their hands or
in the tent Lend an ear an' you'll see 'Cause when it comes t' needin' savin' Ain' nobody knows it better than me I was so low that I know That only
All God's creatures got a place in the choir Some sing low and some sing higher Some just hang out like a bird on a wire Waiting to fly home All God'
face, shit My nine mm on my waist, shit Ia??m a problem Shoot up your place shit Let a few go Then I get low Blazing Haze again The Masters, The
e Et son teint au vôtre pareil Las! Voyez comme en peu d'espace Mignonne, elle a dessus la place Las! las! ses beautés laissé choir
Jeane The low-life has lost its appeal And I'm tired of walking these streets To a room with a cupboard bare Jeane I'm not sure what happiness means
All God's critters got a place in the choir Some sing low, some sing higher Some sing out loud on the telephone wires And some just clap their hands,
(feat. Mos Def, Freeway, The Harlem Boys Choir) [Kanye West] We in the streets playa, getcha mail It's only two places you'll end up - either dead or
Jeane The low life has lost its appeal And I'm tired of walking these streets To a room with the cupboard bare Jeane I'm not sure what happiness means
