C-Rayz Walz

C-Rayz Walz - 3 Card Molly lyrics

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Word up, I ain't forget y'all, yeah Doug 

[C-Rayz Walz] 

Four to five times, dum-dums blast 

In the chest of my brother, that breath was the last one 

I don't believe it, my heart need a cast 

I told him, GET OUT THAT LANE, cause it was too fast 

Ain't it time to, cut these yellow lines, the 

show must go on I got his younger brother on my mind 

Cash tragic, wish I knew magic tricks 

I'd bring it back to the physical script 

And dreams is broke, he got smoked for coke - in the form of rock 

What it made worse, he was on his own block 

At the funeral, I cried then laughed 

At the same time, my wrath, had me happy and sad 

To reminisce, off his unique funnyness 

Adds up to this, his life was a gift 

To be back, the memories from days of way back 

Before, Crips or gats, colored tops and graf 

We thought, bikes was fat, and girls was whack 

They said you died black, but I don't believe that 

'Member that time I took the shit in the train station 

And you said the cops was comin, but you was just playin 

Right after we robbed that crackhead fams 

That was back in the day, but DAMN 

We both had the, high-top, fades like Kane and 

We was fiendin for them Nike Airs on Fordham Road 

It don't make sense, how you was gone 

And it don't make rent, how I don't get paid for this song 

But it make rent, in my pocket when I pull 'em out 

And it make me, wanna go and.. yo 

I feel like blastin myself, cause my pops is gone 

This ain't nothin goin on, but the stocks and bonds 

Lost in the ocean of life, provokin the strife 

Couldn't see the day, with the motion of night 

[Chorus x2] 

Off on the road, 3 card molly 

Fuckin up the icey man in front of everybody 

BX, the place I was from 

BX, man I loved that slum 

[C-Rayz Walz] 

And Ms. Rios, sorry that I dissed your flag 

And when Ty got shot, he had to shit in a bag 

But that's okay, cause Ra lay, on the same corner 

On the same ave, where I sold, marijuana 

And Ms. Carolyn, was a nosy neighbor 

Mr. Sack was screamin loud, but that was the days 

of a angry sick juvenile, mentality 

Not nice on the mic, but niggaz ain't wanna battle me 

Cause the knuckle game was Chuck Norris 

The gun was enchanted, enterin a buck-buck forest 

Without the dollars, more lies that Morris 

You know how it go, for con artists 

I remember block parties and, 22's 

And light and serious and, a funny crew 

And Jabu I miss you, when you died I was upset 

Couldn't know how it felt, to be a Vietnam vet 

To hear bombs goin off in your ear, with big Metallica 

And now we in the streets and the jails is like Galaga 

They got your DNA sample 

Plus they got your female in the house trampled 

{*sounds*} is the hell of the train station 

I try to move out, leave the pain vacant 

But it stay here, and it stays there 

Bust out, stray shots, there's no fear 

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?


Language: English

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