Come on, I'll believe it when I see it I can feel my body working I can hear my body healing Come on, there is no one there to hurt us There is no one
Buried alive Person unknown Dying inside Half the way home Somewhere Under a Delvaux moon Childhoods end Came too soon, came too soon Don't want to
buried alive I just exist with nothing but sorrow I don't know if it's today or tomorrow I'm through living with the world outside so I'm living buried
Burn so crooked (Crooked) The poet likes to spit (Spit) Kareem, that's my dog Life behind the walls Nigga, life behind the walls Yeah, welcome to Oz,
Where it at, where it at Where it at, where it at Where it at, where it at Oh do he rhyme with a slug from the shots in his face or Do he rhyme wit a
Just blaze I spit an' reload things since livin' was gold rings Fuck a piece of the pie, nigga, gimme the whole thing I done seen death, seen less, seen
Uh huh, uh huh, Brooklyn, Vietnam What you, uh, yeah, uh, come on Oh no, big Shyne Po Back in the motherfuckin' heezy for sheezy Gimme a tech that don
[Shyne] Yeah, yeah This ones for my Brooklyn playboys This ones for my L.A. playboys This ones for my Chi-town playboys ATL, down south NC, SC Where you
Shit, sometimes man, be contemplating Yo, living in hell, die, might be better Walk through the shadow of death, my out pissing Rebel, laughing at the
No, we don't need no more trouble We ain't the problem nigga We don't need no more trouble, no more trouble I ain't the problem Solve me, if I am ever
the shit sowed Fuck you punk, niggaz, witcho punk cash With the punk blast, put yo punk ass in the trunk fast The fuck y'all thought? I buried niggaz
Swizz, Po Respect our gangsta, nigga Lay down What you know 'bout rollin' out? Big Tecs, big vests, hollow tips all up in that kid neck Po live it up
Hey! Yeah! po For all my niggas locked under the cell this gangsta mash All my niggas turn this shit up in Heaven While niggas was alive it was hell Gotta
Yeah Shyne Gangland Huh, Murder Inc Alright Turn the beat up I seek you Okay I see ya Ma in ya thousand dollar weave, masterpiece Diamond face on ya
you know about that? The gully kid put it in your skully kid, bleed nigga what it is What you know about that? Yacht, Cheddar Boys, Streets Lords, truly yours It's the "Godfather Buried
Uh uh, uh, uh Ayo, Mac 10's and fake friends Lawyers little game homicide 25 with the fuckin' nigga face 'em But I'm still trill, still holdin' Rollin
day an angel came down from heaven an envoy of our God above From this great world to choose a token that all his throng in heaven would love We buried
Wasted life now gone to hell Perfect child was left to dwell Destined to fight, destined to kill Infant at birth was born to kill Which will it be
