Dalszövegek
Cracker Can I Take My Gun To Heaven

be the problem solver, if I Sell you a book nigga stick it 'Cause for every you check you slippin' they can call me flipper I only I missed a few niggaz

I keep, I keep slipping away, My time keeps, time keeps slipping away, Like I keep, I keep slipping away, My time keeps, time keeps slipping away, Like I keep, I

pistols I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya And ain't taking no more pictures, if you snap I'ma click Anyway, plus I got bullets in

pop I'm a young little g and man I can't stop I'm non shalant, so I can't be detected And you heard the ghetto message, and bitch I wrecked it It's like

rich commerce rain Though the voices I no longer hear speak Heaven's to blame so on that I'll abstain Best clean the church from my cracked fingernail

my pistol because I just can't take no more I get the gun and then get to running, just like bitches Bail out before the cops come, I can't go to prison

I sharpen my brain, Karate keep my body trained. I think of my brother and how the crack tighened the veins in his arms, Wish I could take the stress

most my life Done sold my soul to the devil I hope I die in my sleep I know it's gonna be a 187 Ain't no turning back I'm strapped with 2 crome gacks

ain't because I'm a bitch, it's because I ain't a bitch I don't endanger people that I'm with I'm a general, I ain't Bush I don't send my soldiers to