I wonder if Gladys smiles when angels bring my name up Or change language and subject change up Her boy’s a long way from red dolls and green rangers Things ain’t been the same since Ms. Patterson called me famous I saw your reflection in a toilet full of vomit water You don’t think I felt ya hand on my head yelling “call his father” But people don’t hear ghosts So how they gon' blame me Money saved me So I’ma do the same thing You droppin pounds, gettin small on some sick shit Like how you got the drive but don’t know how to use a stick shift You better not miss this Over dose, dope and mixes Let ya throat close With a boatload of dope quotes within it
Dropping tapes 'til I losted count Coughing out blood Dropping weight Like I lost an ounce Throwing words and tossing nouns NY traveling I’m Boston bound Bossing 'round homies And talking down to shorties while I’m jotting down Notes to spit to Harlem crowns Surfing through the Harlem crowds At the crib I’m falling down Yeah, I'm steady crawling 'round I’m calling out to God Your little angels falling down Save me from my darkened cloud Reach your hands and arms aroundTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
