Woorden:
In Pieces Heaven And A Gun

one whispers trapping your thoughts from being heard eyes look into themselves as the mirror shatters escape, a question once asked to the barrel of a gun

go Search and Destroy A million little pieces A million little pieces A million little pieces A million little pieces A million little pieces A million little pieces A million little pieces

? At twenty-five a mustang pony he did steal And they rode around and 'round on heaven's wheel Father Jesus, I'm an outlaw, killer and a thief And I

I die, bury me a motherfuckin' G A open casket on them bastards so they all remember me With my vest on my chest, my tools and my piece 'Thug Life', motherfucker

, I'm a fingerless glove For a pilot, I'm a 'Ghani with a beard and a trenchcoat Chillin first class, steady sippin on a coke To a paranoid cop, I'm a

us Don't touch a Mike or a gun if you ain't gonna use it, do it Claiming your weapons and tecs And you gonna be checked and fluid, prove it 'Cuz no

I wanted to bring back that reality, but nobody Can ever be confused and think I'm fuckin Mike Tyson And I'm a heavyweight champion, I'm a little nigga

drama She's a gangster and the other terminal cancer Ask too many questions and my Smith and Wesson will answer Heaven and hell is on earth Heaven and

cap three at the first coward I up and see I'ma bust the piece and knock his body a couple of feet When I rush your front door, you get a few to your