Woorden:
Head Chest Foot

Three choices. One bullet. One trigger. Guess who gets to pull it? One leader. One thousand slaves. For every throne there's one thousand graves (give

Three choices. One bullet. one trigger. Guess who gets to pull it? One leader. One thousand slaves. For every throne there's one thousand graves. (give

Three choices. One bullet. One trigger. Guess who gets to pull it. One leader. A thousand slaves. For every throne there's a thousand graves. You're

cocked the broomstick back and swung hard as I could And beat him over the head with it 'til I broke the wood Knocked him down, stood on his chest with one foot

my head split wild plan with this. Style until i feel well and done with it. You a broke wrist rapper with a fruit-flavoured packer. Jimmy on the breath sugar footed

, nigga, respect the juks Stop shaking, you making me nervous, I know that you shook The fuck is that sticking out from under ya foot? Move, turn ya head

or me Click clack She says I will not say what I see But I never could have trusted her so I busted her in her chest Then laughed Then headed for the

do that vatos mine To the night with a sight when I look the moon is full and get tool and look for my foe Got that five footed star on my chest so you

the power bloodsheds on the wall during the witching hour IN THE DARKNESS see me ride by in an impala draggin some fuck ass by his foot and hear him holla