wigged a man's wife Shot her with a gun and stabbed her with a knife Or take a look at your mother's heart torn She just received a phone call from the
get a bottle of milk or, or just go to your job And do it good and come back home But on your way, my God there's a girl And there's another girl and
real though gonna last long Break out the stiletto coming mad strong Bounce if you wanna, lounge will play the corner I'm New York talking that gangster talk
- A sheik with 3 harem girls, a chicken-eating geek, a fortune teller, a bearded lady, a fakir with a snake girl, a reptile man, the odd 6th exhibit
we saved up, bought ourselves an outfit, Nighties, nylons, beautiful dresses. Soon we found a job that was going, A job as dancer in a cabaret, A job
20 Crip but most claim insane See, it's not a lifestyle, it's a full time job An' if you live in Long Beach, it's like a macabre From block to block
For a couple of songs and a chance to shine Like the star that he longed to be He looked a Hell of a lot like me Well he'd played a lot of places where
he could hardly stand) Woke up with a heavy head and a strange girl beside him (Returned home a worried guilty man) But inside his coat his wife found a
on the right and silenced his ass Nigga on the left, a strangle was his death Motherfucker in the middle, play the monkey caught a cap Sucking my barrel like a
man She never cared to hear what the town folk would say They tried to talk her out of keepin' that boy But in this world she's found no greater joy Now she's a
on ------------------------------------------------------------------- Come on Over Get a life--get a grip Get away somewhere, take a trip Take a
jam Cause I married the streets and atlanta has been my best man My momma quit her job and now she works with six figures Cause I'm a self-made nappy-headed
score with a whore she be game for sure Pimp so hard, a nigga drag his mink on the floor Won't you admit it? I ain't gotta talk because I live it Any
I look Used to be a straight a student, now he's a crook Robbin people just to smoke or shoot up Used to have a crew cut, now he's a pooh-put Dropped
for none of that shit wait run it back kid, you Ain't paid me a buck why you think I never had money for that stuff Cause you cant keep a job Man neither
When I score with a whore she be game for sure Pimp so hard, a nigga drag his mink on the floor Won't you admit it? I ain't gotta talk because I live
of a fascist dictator. It was a callous and savage piece of electioneering Designed to cover up horrific domestic problems. At a time when a peaceful
talking about here is...is kind of a...it's a heartland feeling...like, uh, Mellencamp, you know, kind of a Mellen feeling. Ok, what you gotta get together is a... some...a