the streets, a hundred seven got brew I see you, come see you, writing scrolls (Writing scrolls) To the rest of the fam, locked in holes At age eight
cool kid, although we lost him big If he was a real nigga, then he wouldn't have got did Life's trife and then you die Nobody dies of old age, but in
like what does that mean It means I crush you and every coward in between For sounding like girls with them sweet sixteens And I don't give a fuck about who's old
Verse one: {tec-9} It all started in the streets at the age of ten I started hangin' out late snatchin' purses with my friends I went solo one day on
better days Let go of your dreams Those before you suffered this way And those who'll come after will suffer the same There's no getting out of this age old
Don't touch what doesn't belong to 'em I'm on to 'em Paranoid? Yes Anxious, always The moment is upon us 'cause they slippin' in they old age No matter
around my neck My head it rung with screams and groans From the night I spent amongst her bones And I past beside the mission house Where that mad old
, but about the lifestyle I glorified Now everlying I have heard and seen much shit But through it all man, I've always been a lyrisct From high school, to a hole
that soon In the delivery room It would've asked the nurse for a hit The reason for this? The mother is a jerk Excuse me, Junkie Which brought the work of the old
a hand grenade Cut his wife throat as she put her hands to pray ?Just five more dogs, then we can get a soccer ball" That's what my commander say How old
(drummond - pack - puerta - bernstein****) Home life, seems you're gettin' Mad 'n' nothin's gettin' done Old ties, that held you back Have got you on
Well, you can move it on down the highway You can turn another page And when you finally get to the old folk's home Then you can finally act your age
and the screen is plasma You're Atari 2600 with a weak adapter Between us the gap's so crazy I'm Gucci, Louis V, you're Gap, Old Navy I get coochie in
last run with the biggest payload of them all. Chorus He's an old gearjammer putting down his last hammer, headed straight for that slammer or a hole
a sound of a ping-pong ball Except generally you'll hear That's the sound of a match between a golfer and a ping-pong enthusiast I played golf today, 18 holes
boring perfect for these Sleepless nights, though I feel quite over-aged Yeah, I know turn the page Ha-ha huh let's begin Book-marks the first page And reads once upon an age
lyrics by Corb Lund and Mike Plume, music by Corb Lund He's been roundin? off bolts since the age of fourteen Was that a five eighths or a nine sixteenths