LOVE OF THE COMMON PEOPLE Living on free food tickets, water in the milk from a hole in the roof where the rain came through. What can you do? Tears from
country folk And after him came President Polk Zachary Taylor liked to smoke His breath killed friends whenever he spoke Eighteen fifty, really nifty Millard Fillmore's in Young
somethin's comin' I like this sound of this somethin's comin' You can picture like a photograph, envision the image Of 125th street and Lenox The old folks
me it would happen when I was much older Wish it would've happened then (Is this the end?) Sometimes I be wakin' up at high noon Sayin, "Why me, Lord?", folks
gettin hot See Mack won't stop until Mack's on top Young black america my CD drop in two thousand and two, to change hip-hop Most folks shake ya bones
Alpine bumpin can't hear her when she callin Now she stressin textin sendin all them emails Braggin to all her friends like girl you know what he sells How ya riding young
'm sorry [Chorus] [Bridge:] Just roll the ball til them folks come get ya but you gotta spend it all cuz you can't take it with ya just roll the ball til them folks
right I'ma flaunt it Do anything you want, just don't get up on it Them O.G.'s raised, you know them streets made me Equipped with the gator, drive these young
I'm an old man now, I can't do nothing Young folks don't pay me no mind But in my day I sure was something Before I felt the heavy hand of time I'm an
back at it Touchdown n December nigga dam near folded still I had 2 gang member First a nigga skool dem Den I roll da dice went I tell da folks shit
like a hundred Beyonce's A couple fiancres, I'm the new DeVante Come and talk to me, mami in the ea-sy Garant, I hope, she ain't too young Only twenty
the game been good to me, Still spittin' fire, you niggas wood to me, We on nigga, let let them hoes know, Young Money lay 'em down like old folks, You
Yo, young money right here, bike here, throw it up, no high chair, cold like a white bear, freddie Kruger Im a rap b-tch nightmare, and I'm rich I
ever let the truth be told And oh Mos Def ran to my home And said they gon have yo ass gone Light jokes, you keep playin with them white folks Cant even
I really can't trust my neighbours some only trust in they Lord and saviour I gotta believe in the fact that he must want better for us like young C
the dark Don't want to stray too far Young man stands with his ax in his hand Believin' that the crops are all in Firewood stacked ten by ten For the wife, the folks
Blue Coats try to get away From a smoke signal, above the trees A smoke signal, shifting in the breeze Some folks think it's make believe Other folks