Muppet In Shades: I saw these crazy dudes And they went out on the street They were cleanin' out the empty lot And makin' it neat I said, "Man is this
but I got 50 niggas Loyal to die for me Look what da devil done to me Runnig the beef under the streets Na we each gotta knock of da leash A bunch of empty
send apologies but I got 50 niggas Loyal to die for me, look what the devil done to me Runnig the beef under the streets Na we each gotta knock of da leash A bunch of empty
rain came Well, it kissed our feet And a magic moon lay down On our street Oh, love and death it's like war and peace One single outreach on this empty
top of my lungs Pretending the echoes belong to someone Someone I used to know And we become Silhouettes when our bodies finally go I wanted to walk through the empty streets
dialed to a Broadway serenade As ashes on beer cans make their promenade If you see me I will be mesmerized From my empty row I feel moved to my
burn From the skylines on top of the world Till there?s nothing left of her Let?s watch this city burn the world My body doused in ash with two empty cans
streets 'Cause you can't make it very far When your tank is on empty But the final can of gasoline was loaded on a truck And driven through the streets
At dawn they ride again They'll haul you out to the streets They'll burn your papers and your empty trash cans Beat this thought into your head, singin
's all fucked up now, caught your hand in the jar Another small step back for the man at the bar Spill a little bit of blood on the street For the love
awake with ease, bangin' car doors are annoying me. The rain is coming down, started to lash, and I'm waiting for the glass to smash. Empty cans rattle
gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty stances
to moan The middle of summer and I'm chilled to the bone Holes in my shoes where the rain comes in I'm sittin' on top of the world Walkin' in the shadows of empty
(gimme that!) School Craft wanna jingle your keys Whatchu 'bout to do? Bleed! [Proof] (3, 1, 3) Y'all don't run the streets, the streets run you
beer cans crunch Two ladies sit together on a park bench, feed the pigeons, and eat lunch And the window's always broken and the corner has a street
's runnin' dry, dry, dry Find a waiting room beneath the stars to make your bed You know London can make your brain stall The streets get cold and empty
words like conjunction A friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions When I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin' it You comin' up empty
know I'm damned Like no other man Well, I'm tired so sick, tired of breakin' down Won't be no one here to greet you when you come around And crossroads alleys and empty streets