do is come back home You have a place in my heart You have a place in my heart No matter where you go Yes you have a place in my heart No matter where
Mean Spiritual like a Elohim Nah Mean In a casino or a yacht Wherever Im seen My brothers and sisters are never forgot Nah Mean Dont wanna hear another
of this place Take me awwaaayyyy Away, far away to better days [Verse 3:] We got a new president and I love that he black But I'm a ask him like Bush
out of this place, send me a away, far away to better days, [The Game] We got a new president and I love that he black, but Imma ask him like bush, where
my true thugs) Comin to a ghetto near you Street fame (bust) Comin to a ghetto near you Street fame All out warfare, eye for a eye Bustin on my
out my business [Verse One: 2Pac] Perhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back I couldn't trust my own homies just a bunch a dirty rats
rise tower If so the soul of sweet delight on you will shower there's a place for us they say is somewhere not a dream but a place and you will be there
Feelin my highs and my lows In my soul, and my goals Just to stop smoking and stop drinkin But I been thinkin I got my reasons Just to get (by), just
a man, than live like a coward There's a ghetto up in Heaven and it's ours, Black Power is what we scream as we dream in a paranoid state And our fate
kno star Mi get a fuck from a gyal di otha day A di worst... yo Jah know star *choops* And di worst ting she deh ya too yuh know My girl, ladies From
drove It was a black Mitsubishi (Shit thats the clique we beefin wit I swear) Man and I was on my way there Believe me I'm leavin a carcus today I'ma
rippin your wallet off And slippin a Molotov in your Cocktail (take that) Burnin your contracts, punch your A&R in the face *punch sound* Smash his
while I'm rippin your wallet off And slippin a Molotov in your Cocktail (take that) Burnin your contracts, punch your A&R in the face *punch sound* Smash
biotch) (in & out like a crack house) keep it moving (Face off with the .38 scraped off) keep shorty maced can't throw a 4-4 eight ball know your place
in the park with a whip Between the lines of the whispering Jesuits Who are poisoning you against me There's a big black spider hanging over my door
was a bread roll, soaking in a milk-bowl And when the bread broke, fell in bricks of wet smoke My sleeping heart woke, and my waking heart spoke Then