翻訳: 遅い痛み. あなたのゲームをピックアップ.
Slow Pain] The hood's all fucked up Pick your game up Blame yourself Homie, clean your name up The hood's all fucked up Pick your game up Blame yourself
knows anything goes Finally caught up with my nigga Sam Sam Picked me up, in the tan Lex land Wanted breakfast down at Pan Pan's, what's your favorite
Kiss you slow and stare in your eyes Now I talk real foul and slick Every other sentence is, "You make me sick" Back in the days I was your number one pick Now your
your priorities? So the story goes Chasin' dreams, all they tellin' them is sacrifice they souls You really listenin'? Learn a lesson from these bros Playin' the game it's heavy Heatin' up
nobody in the world sound better in the booth [Chorus:] [BEEP~!] If I don't pick up just leave me a message I don't pick up, just leave me a message -
to run Grab your guns 'cause beef with me and Petey P. hide your sons Double-R motherfucker Let me slow this shit down before y'all make us spit rounds
Monstar droppin' flavor fluid so drink slow Chorus (busta rhymes) Yo, God bless!! Pick up your chest Here's an example of how I can stress your full
it, could happen with no discussion Straps of all pain fools fuckin' eruptin' For the green little papers jackin' your neighbors But what if your neighbor put the arms in his favor? Picked up
and we comin up fixin to pop up on the scene, just got some drank from that boy with that bird, and you know we just hooked us up on some syrup, now you
my name Like fuck five mics I want five vic fame If killing pain is the name of the game Then I'm your number one draft pick Dash quick to the closest
think I'm stupid My crew is mad deep, I hope you niggas sleep I throw a bomb through you window Burn you up and your hoe I catch your mama going to
anything goes, finally caught up with my nigga Sam Sam Picked me up, in the tan Lex Land Wanted breakfast down at Pan Pan's, what's your favorite
muthafucka notice my production of these closed cascettes, fucked up get blasted since pre-school on some bad shit, your first and last pick, its kill
your place, just you and me Take it slow, don't cry, dry your eyes Despise the way that he treat you with lies I be your Mary Jane your everything, no pain I be your
g.'s had me actin crazy Like fightin and blastin cause life ain't funny Young niggas strugglin best get your money Creep up in the late night Keep your
face with no name Glass full of cold fame Chased it with slow pain It's nothing but a slow pulse If you just stop feeling it Your friends and your folks
givin' out some hard times Heard one of these locked up And my people snortin' hard lines Locked up and they didn't do a thang Locked up because of the pressure and pain Locked up
