I see a robbery in progress Lunatics about to steal the show From the S T L M O 3 1 4 Call the cops I see a robbery in progress Lunatics about to steal
you grew up harder But I ain't been to many operas Or had money for private doctors As harsh it sound, these just a tears of a clown I grew up hard, maybe
To decide if imma walk or ride I slide up and put the barrel to her neck and scoot bitch Im driveing and were in pursuit of your loot bitch Im dirty wicked for
The future is bright or will it be weary Do I need to pay attention to conspiracy theories Is the government systematically destroyin the population for the progress
-Bizzy Bone-Chorus- Murdah is out of control/ Murdah just let it blow (It blow)/ Word up if you bucked a mothafucka down for taken ya dough (Taken ya
are one of a clown Look out before you sign Your soul away The crystal ball, it seems Is not reading to - reading today Does the time seem right For
(? ) *bang* 'cause my mic's my piece Chorus [maestro fresh wes] I walk around town looking at these clowns Thinking about my cold crisp build to brown I sweat the coloured clown
OLA DRI-O, OLA OLA OLA DRI-A This is a passout song!!!! (Repeat Chorus) The night progressed and so did we, Those asleep were in for misery Some got painted like a clown
I learn to differ swift stimulation of a soul snatcher. Oh! here they come jay-z, 15 deep In a clown car wit make-up, but I got make-up For ya - wake
dumbing now for these rounds I'm a live mothefucker plus I'm gunning for clowns You're a mime motherfucker, don't be coming for pounds Till you can break
around For a long time, I kick the strong rhymes You're empty-handed and stranded cause you were standing in the wrong line This is not the fate is for
track range between space and time And push back like receding hair lines That's the essence of the effervescence At this melodic dynamic shit progresses A mic murderer for
on stethoscopes. Sell your hopes for a homeland security chart, 'Til your sense of self is broke and no man's pure in the heart. Preventive detention for
stethoscopes. Sell your hopes for a homeland security chart, 'Til your sense of self is broke and no man's pure in the heart. Preventive detention for
when you eat spreads for dinner Hit the streets, late night in the corner, star mission On the 211 mission, just to pay tuition For my kids, I got to
't be goin out like no trick just cause of my love for good pussy Brown-skinned and body like BOW BOW has to have it (gots to) But breakin myself for
(feat St. Lunatics) (City Spud) Yo, 'for the nigga mention my name I let him know the deal I'm the nigga, same nigga, thought was a lame nigga Now I
