hand and looked in my eyes He said, "Hey girl can't you live your life right?" Father things aren't always so black and white Don't cast the first stone
niggaz you idolize Get it started quicker and hit you before you try to hide Latin thug roll deep pandillero Puro Los Angeles South side ghetto Carpet, car black
t move, don't brake, don't lose, don't sleep Light passin', light fashion, life happens that fast, party done Black hands up and prayer Black guns up
the cock then repect the roost. And roosters respect your hands, Rolls in pigpens, boxes and chicken dance. Animal appetite, cannonball crush candle-light. Maddam black
fit up in this motha fucka Cause Rozay been talkin white he think he Uncle Ruckus I laugh at Jimmy, they was spending silly with my budget And now I'm rolling
hand and looked in my eyes He said "Hey girl, can't you live your life right?" "Father things aren't always so black and white Don't cast the first stone
An angel on a Harley Pulls across to greet a fellow rolling stone Puts his bike up on it's stand Leans back and then extends A scarred and greasy hand
sin They shot me in the face Mars wins (X5) (Puffin' smoke) Run around with your face on fire (Jet-black smoke on the horizon) Black smoke in the air
, I show no love Money getta like Cheeba, minds like Fat And my trap roll hard just like Shawty Black I'm a country ass nigga just like Ace Gotta fetish for the stones
angel undercover I've been numb, I'm revived Can't say I'm not alive You know I wouldn't want it any other way --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somedays Somedays goes your way Your on a roll
He is a trucker burning the highway His heart is strong as stone Counting them yard lines passing them hard times Riding that black top home You gotta
Blackest magic, leave my soul, give my angels all control Blackest magic, let me be, keep your black tounge off of me Blackest magic, drop your chain
and famous with green The black hearse roll through da ghetto streets I made the sign of da cross, glad it ain't me Not fearing death, just not ready yet two stones
it high up, holla back, Squire I'm screwed up I drive slow not fast Birdman Jr. I got stones not cash, bitch I'm from the swamp I smoke dro not grass P.O.C. rolled
had this dark tag, couldn't see through the black We roll up ask 'em where their party at They just start to laugh and I knew it was a trap But I couldn't roll
so doggone happy like a natural child Oh help me do the boogie all down the line Come on Virginia, let's shoot some dice My sweet black angel, shine
motionless, rock of stone, on a parallel world. Angel of sadness invading your tomb. It seems that a tear rolls down your cheek. Your soul, has maybe