the prowl for Drag and niggaz wanted him dead That's what you get, gambling yo life wit a hundered to bet Ace to the dues, now yo face has seen a hundered
C. Foster. Composed but a few days previous to his death (New York: W. A. Pond, 1864). Facsimile in Stephen Foster, Household Songs, Earlier American
The trenches, I was a mathematician by profession. I don't like people to get the idea that I have to do this for a living. I mean, it isn't as though
a guitar on a day when It's starting to rain Ain't got no more songs of lay only more songs of metro refrain Life is a movie show human drama of loss
and silent Livin by the day, hearts are cold like winter nights Got a hot 10 on the dice in this game of life A-alikes in tune, immune to snake bites
Metro line to the Mall site with a tour of Japanese He's wandering and lost until a vet in worn fatigues Takes him down to where they belong Near a
with a Metro card I can fit the sum of your Tom Thumb concepts in a thimble Simple bitches, Doctor Death lacing barbed wire stitches A herd of mad cows
it last, we can make it last We can make it We can make it last, we can make it I can't wait, wanna see How this night is gonna be Just a touch away From a
, get a speed bump comin' through A single shot make your knees knock, respect wu Aiyyo I put it on a nigga, shit it on a nigga Turnin' Christian to
trips, your eyes don't lie, take a glimpse into my life You see me blazing clips with the green to make it rich With a team that'll scrape the Knicks
my life experiences, wrap it up in twelve inches Keepin' my defenses put it up in raw trenches Holdin' court on the park benches in the ghetto servin' life
Girls who travel the metro Stroking white mice they carry in their pockets Lost in a day dream Daydreaming to be loved by someone Hurtling myself down into the metro A
was in hell Believe in neither, but fear them as well This one's a doctor This one's a lawyer This one's a cash fiend, takin' your money Back on the metro
Now you're hanging out at Fourth and Broad On the rain wet sidewalk remembering the time When coffee with a friend was still a dime And everything's
banner for I came with a board sword plus a stack of metaphors. Chorus M.A.N.A FESTO exposing light and take aim, what, M.A.N.A FESTO exposing light
a dance We could never pay two quid, not a chance Pig sick, down the Job Center, much later we will be thinking never mind you know life is cruel, life
dead, dear people I don't know if you'll hear my last plea But somebody needs to be a little concerned about me It's like I'm standing on the edge of a
MC" I said, "Yeah, love 'em with salt and well cooked" Move out of my way Later in the metro there's a hobo hanging He tells me his life, he tells