Text:
All That S Left My Thoughts On The Subject

broken spirit is what you gave You hold the pieces of what you know are mine Crawl back in your hole and choke on the bone Of what's left on the outside

that's the magic of it Now every rehashed subject's displaying what I wrote on cafe napkins to the public to get it over and done with, closure hath cometh My

subject my brothers in the projects a minute or two will do my love and my respect hard times I've been thru no gold on my spoon mama left me my sister

come to realize, Is mainly this: that I am wrong, That my perception is askew, That I write shyte and call it song. Perhaps Ia??ll always question thus, Discount my merits, thoughts

my head falls off Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes Clearing my throat

, cause I know somebody's doing wrong It's gon' be trouble when I find out just what's going on [Bridge:] All hot up in here, cause I'm on that gasoline

Run for your life! He's gone crazy! " That's why that lady screamed, that's her in the club, right outside Them all shots fly but (the gun's still loaded

the genesis, paraphanalia circle my premisis Poor images, project life drained my innocence (Uh huh) It's all the worst genocide, I guess the water's cursed My

look at your left eyebrow If it's raised, it means yes, If it's not it means take a guess Hey! You! Stop kicking my legs I'm doing my best can you pass