pull-pit, it's like Merrill Lynch I'm on that bulls*** Real s***, money come first, and even worse You need all your toes and fingers to count up what
balance gallops with a fiery outline Ban and bomb y'all pastel poets belly up (I'll tell you what) Born stylin' 4 dimensions count em' 3 to take to ya
and load, fill 'em all with bullet-holes Pushing up the body-count - "Eat lead, motherfucker!" "Punk, you want some more?" This is total fucking war Bodies
been abolished. But If all of this could bring my love back to me... I'd do away with the drugs and the drink...and the body count could cease. I've
get this straight! [Billy Flynn] Pipe down and swearing. Look, from here on, You'd say nothing wrong. Now try it again. [Roxie Hart] - I was born on
is king Generations drowned in self-indulgence and deceit, mass suicide the liberating end New gods will be born and killed to live again, religion
of a Smith & Wesson And all my niggaz in the pen, here we go again Ain't nuttin separatin us from a mack-10 Born in the ghetto as a hustler, told ya A
a Smith & Wesson And all my niggaz in the pen, here we go again Ain't nuttin separatin us from a mack-10 Born in the ghetto as a hustler, told ya A straight
fun of distance Lucky that I love a foreign land for The lucky fact of your existence Baby I would climb the Andes solely To count the freckles on your body
wit gangs in the back of the ' jects where the killin' In Park Ave. where young Chris body found A number is all to add to task body count Watch it boy
my protection from the barrel of a Smith & Wesson And all my niggaz in the pen, here we go again Ain't nothing separating us from a mack ten Born in
is king Generations drowned in self-indulgence and deceit, mass suicide the liberating end New gods will be born and killed to live again, religion as
with a fiery outline Ban and bomb y'all pastel poets belly up (I'll tell you what) Born stylin' 4 dimensions count em' ?Breed it take it to em' up,? run
singing til I no more can My dove my dove my lamb And later if I?m better I?ll be born again I?ll pull my newborn body from the thorns and limbs Finding
we will live forever, or die by suicide. (Abraham Lincoln, address to the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, IL, January, 1838)'' There'll be no more counting
sun angel on the head of a pin from the air to the body again animals know how to begin a world that ends drop out of the belly and cry alive again
it's like Merrill Lynch I'm on that bullshit Real spit, money come first, and even worse You need all your toes & fingers to count up what I'm worth,
lines, echoes at the end] [Verse Two: Nas] I woke up early on my born day, I'm twenty years of blessing The essence of adolescent leaves my body now