kno am an Indian Cyaa figet weh mi come from Yuh kno why Chorus When every girl cut and forgot about me When me broke like dog she was by my side She
a crack-a-matician Rollin the ave cuz Im gettin dough in that slab cuz im gettin over, they mad i just grill a blow with my mag with my briches Kno I
deserve So I try to live simply in a complicated world (Mad Child & Prevail) (Chorus x4) (Mad Child) Broken down engines, cowboys and Indians (Prevail) Black Jack gunfights saloons and women (Mad
is absurd My repotoire is U.S.S.R. P.L.O. style got blown out the car And ran over, by the Method Man jeep Divine can't define my style is so deep like
crazy as Hitler day I don't hate nobody But these days is crazy as Hitler day My, my, my, my celebrate my As all days go by Some thanks for the givin
by Arlo Guthrie Wanna hear something? You know that Indians never ate clams. They didn't have linguini! And so what happened was that clams was allowed
loud Unleashed my beak At peak of powers O girl, unleash Your worried comb O worried mind Sin in the fallen Backwoods by the blind She smells debt On my
?s divinity First thing you see A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon Couples naked race down by it?s quiet side And we laugh like soft, mad children
heard that the Winnebagos are an Indian tribe, man. Really? Yeah! An Indian tribe? Yeah, they didn't ride no horses though, man.. Did they have ladders up the side
true when we rock that, man came in the game leather on tight I'm, tight and my ?? smooth like leather ayyy my pimp game tight like my jeans come through my
.L.O. style got thrown out the car and ran over, by the Method Man jeep Divine can't define my style is so deep like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy
like hen My skin is my sin My S K I N is my S I N (Burning our black skin) My S K I N is my S I N (Burning our black skin) I get around like Tupac,
L.O. style got thrown out the car and ran over, by the Method Man jeep Divine can't define my style is so deep like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy
s all good I -Recycle cans and paper goods in my hood son No trash mouth cuz trash is better in a dump The grass can be greener on the other side (
even talk about ya', ho You ain't know? I'm just a hustler, in spite of myself Ridin' all by myself, without no one else Looky here On my Doc Holidays
I'm finna get these niggas That's jockin my rap style off of my dick [VERSE 1] I'm insane, so I strain my brain in a flame Bad dreams of a child bein
never be able Use your CD's for mirrors, tapes level my table So many labels, known differently all over the world Rise; my Indian name is "touches-your-girl" Natives kneel to my
