Dalszövegek
Attack In Black Young Leaves

There's a shadow clinging lyrically by and by to the devil on the roadside there's an angel envious to mystery like young leaves there's a void

they man through the bullshit good lovin and good fuckin all night long, what makes a young killa feel strong (you know) you from black thongs to black

battleaxe That ain't real rap You're broke back with your saddle axe SAS klack-klack-klack Bodies in a black bag Thinking about the punk rock shit like Black

is supplying things Hoop dreams, dunking over cars, let the choir sing [Verse 10 - The Game] Yo, it's that black raw, black dog, pulling up on that black

Horace Yeah livin the raw deal, three course meals Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal But still, everything's real in the field And what you can't have now, leave

century Call Loko, take it easy Mang, you got it You leave it the fuckin' illest nigga to fuckin' shit That's no problem with that, gonna fuck that Gonna have a fuckin' heart attack

look just like sticks They trade old licks with a beat up six I just smile and catch the groove Gothic girls all dress in black Serious as heart attacks

killin', attack like piranhas What? What? Pimps, playas, riders, rollers, hustlers Gangstas, thugs, criminal motherfuckers Hit it, quit it, fuck it, leave it, flee No evidence at your residence, that's me Black

seen Everywhere, throughout your surroundin' atmosphere Troposphere, thermosphere, stratosphere Can you imagine from one single idea, everything appeared here Understanding makes my truth, crystal clear Innocent black