Besedila:
Stuck In The Sound I Shot My Friend

What hea?˜s afraid of? Why, Why I shot my friend? And I can't breath Everything, everything is done I cannot sleep But why, What is a friend for? Why I shot my friend

I gots to go man, watch I come through watch I throw the West with my hand, go and get me some break em off with my palm, I gots to come through and I

Of That Bullshit We Both On take It The 'source', 'hip Hop Quotable', Of Course i'm Pullin' Out My 'roots', To Breathe In My 'black Thought' let's Be Honest, I

she's finding matches inside of my pockets that say I trip Which means I might get caught, lose everything that I bought The house, kids and the car, I know this sounds

s never stuck up I know when to shoot my mouth off and when to shut the fuck up Every rhyme I write, worth bitin' Every room I'm in, worth micin' I'm

sounds. The consonants and vowels The consequence of sounds. Ah ah ah... My rhyme ain't good just yet, My brain and tongue just met, And they aint friends, so far, My

for understandin Come together Now as I said my prayers through the years I shed a few tears Cause it's unjust when I see my peers get shot and dropped

, pour me another, so I could forget you now Pour me another, so I could come let you down Pour me another, so I can remember how True that I am to this

like handicap doors I ain't a killer, I just spark a lot So when I squeeze I'm turnin your whole block to a parking lot Understand I'm the grimy Floy