These are our lives But we act like the walking dead With hollow eyes we watch our time Slip through our hands And nothing's ever said No matter what
So scared that love lived on the edge / Scared of love lived on the ledge / Like love lived on the ledge / As if my
't say I love you enough? 'Til it's to late, it's not too late Our hearts are hungry for a food that won't come And we could make a feast from these
for y'all niggas Cause your my niggas on tha realer Beground these streets for stacking peeler For the dealers, save back on your teams And underrestamate with these
his kid ain't a sign of the time I know there's truth in that statement we just living to die But I believe if you live it right, you'll live in the
uncle done died but ain't no tears on my face cause I done already cried I been here before, dead to me is not new my heart safe it, mamma don't, cops
That keep our troubled souls awake We are forbidden to explain A mother to the living, a mother to the dead My ghost will drink the moonlight Magic stones, my heart
man-made sky But man-made never made our dreams collide, collide Here we are now with the falling sky and the rain We're awakening Here we are now with
Back in the days of slaves she packin' like Harriet Tubman Her arms are long and she moves like song Feet with corns, hand with callouses But her heart
man No witnesses, only the questions of who smoked the man Young adolescents in our prime live a life of crime Though it ain't logical we hobble through these
March 9th to come from such hard knock life?s And make it out of the bottom to hit the spotlights Once the artist, this is our lives Cast out for all
What's worse, you know they disperse for bucks So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks This dude, he had the darkest pads, who dressed up in the heart
like a spell, though he'd often say in his homely way that he'd sooner live in Hell. On a Christmas day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail
gon' fuck around and get your head burnt [Raekwon - Verse 3] I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact Hip hop's never dead, the Cuban gave 'em heart
in the park waiting, These are my poison diaries like Mark Latham, So start hating, though you know in your heart, We've been owning this art since our
get, boy, no glory Not in these crime stories I'm tellin' you right now, no glory Scene I Too Big and the Hammer rollin' on a hit Knives in our hands
living and do it for the dead Do it for the monsters under your bed Do it for the teenagers and do it for your mom Broken hearts hurt but they make us