like a bottle And Lord knows I tackled it full throttle May I illuminate the nameless, faceless saints Of these hard and open graves Every lover on
like a bottle And lord knows I'm tackeled from frowled? May I illuminate the nameless faceless saints of this out and open grace Every lover on a mission
cleaning like a bottle And lord knows I'm tackeled from frowled? May I illuminate the nameless faceless saints of this out and open grace Every lover on
too, plus I growed up in the projects too Well, can you put me on your soundtrack? 'Cause I got a good theme song that Betty right could probably sing on
TV and your radio So don't act like I'm hiding nigga, y'all are just some scary hoes You been talkin', now we caught you Bitch now it's on, thug line
t know who to trust So I just point my gun everywhere when I bust Fuck these niggas I'm in your city, your TV and your radio So don't act like i'm hiding
it on the late night radio For the umpteenth time Headin' from LA to the Florida coast I was in between black coffee and shiftin' gears When the second
props for this performance and the Israeli promoter was very interested in them. And it turned out that he was on weekend duty on one of the bomb squads
Well you can dance on tv with your diamonds on Sing in tune for a world that is going for a song Get the steps all right but the words go wrong And you
waking up and i hear the tv blaring cause i guess i must have left it on again stumbling through the door and i am wearing the same thing i had on when
Dave McEnery) A ship out on the ocean, just a speck against the sky, Amelia Earhart flying that sad day; With her partner, Captain Noonan, on the second
called you on the phone today You sounded frantic when you said "Come over, right away" Oh, baby, baby, won't you say what's on your mind? Your TV set
(feat. Trip Lee) [Chorus:] I know you might a seen on the TV You hear on the radio and CD(fall back) But you can be deceived pretty easy Believe me...
Seven O'Clock in the evening Watchin somethin' stupid on TV I'm zoned out on the sofa When my wife comes in the room and sees me She says "Is this 'Behind
muthafuckin' radio And put in a CD or a tape And let them thug niggas show We comin' to invade your space In your face like "Ho hey!" The original, criminal, blowing up on
problems too, plus I growed up in the projects too Well can you put me on your soundtrack? Cause I got a good theme song that Betty Right could probably sing on