me and myself and Irene and my team Fuck your mainstream dry off feet I'm explosive as Simon in Die Hard 3 Now you wavin' six flags like you at GA '
Tell em I'm coming for it, stomach said the same thing I'm nothing like a loser, knew I was here to win F-ck if they close the door, knock tonight, I
Smoke some sherms Drunk as fuck Rollin up a blunt When I get through smokin it I'm comin to your house nigga What's for breakfast Kickin in your door At 3
's got his diploma, got to give him that I got a radical place Got my own private space It's my sanctuary It's the castle of doom I'm the king of my
So we stepped to the door (Yo, there they go) Oh, I'm gonna do the whore So I walk in (Yo, I hear men talking in the next room) If they flex, doom will
) Let me rub my back against the notches on your bedpost scratch these afterthoughts off my flesh and shed ghosts My head's close to your closet door.
p] Niggaz dat want to space age hustle Catch that rocket to the fuckin moon That be yo final ship, bitch, cause yo ass is doomed Ain't no comin back,
for me? 20 g's and the witness protection plan Witness protection plan? 20 g's? better go head and set it up Verse 3 Comin thru doors, steel toes, fo
, filthy (barkle), Something quite (bait) about today?s date, I?d was hard to locate I?d drunk too much Pernod, Took another swipe with my Mach 3 Turbo
hand Makin' funky tracks With my man Michael Jackson Smooth Criminal That's the man Mike's so relaxed Mingle mingle jingle In the jungle Bum rushed the door 3
But hes got his diploma Got to give him that I got a radical place Got my own private space It's my sanctuary It's the castle of doom I'm the king of
am floating I'm going down, deeper and down The door to the other world is open High court of the witch lord I got the invitation Curved blade of the doom
of what you wish for cause its more than rhymes and good times behind this door Its the blood clot blues, the gun-shot wounds the needles and spoons, doomed
you wish for cause its more than rhymes and good times behind this door Its the blood clot blues, the gun-shot wounds the needles and spoons, doomed
Friday running late with rolling off and rolling on Trucks and cars were sleeping, door by door and side by side Someone had to close the back door
you are For bursting My black heart 'Cause you don?t want me no more But just you worry 'Cause when they scratch-scratch my door You?ll hurry Ah 1, 2, 3
] Let me rub my back against the notches on your bedpost scratch these afterthoughts off my flesh and shed ghosts My head's close to your closet door.
shoremen lean Foreward oars Lower corner It's quadruples in proportion He was floored By his formal introduction to the force! Devastatin'! Riveting whirlwinds [Chorus x3
