Woorden:
Sick Of It All Force My Hand

me to dismay. Force - force my hand - forced to take a hostile stand force - force my hand - forced into a violent plan Never gonna want another like it

drove me to dismay. Force - force my hand - forced to take a hostile stand force - force my hand - forced into a violent plan Never gonna want another like it

runnin Gotta make it out of town to flip my {shit} and keep it comin Then bring it back, with another stack, of raps to blow your back out How many of y'all

Martin Swayze Is it real son, is it really real son? Let me know it's real son, if it's really real Something I could feel son, load it up and kill

but the teachers leave it up to the preachers, and the preachers ain't fillin the bleachers, it's the rappers say it ain't. [Ying Yang Twins Rap] It

Never underestimate niggaz, or over trust them Uh...yeah them M's is right in my face I just gotta throw my Timbs on and tighten my lace If it don't jam

' at me sideways every time I roll up I'ma keep it b*unt where did y'all run when we almost lost Marshall y'all did it big like Costco and we back in

It's on, I dedicate my lines to the PJ's Triple beams, Pyrex jars, smoking nickle weeds All we did is look mad fly, icicle rings Whatever homeboy, you want it

to all niggas that do it, I love To all my Brooklyn (Niggas) To all my Uptown (You niggas understand?) To all my Bronx (It's war, nigga) To all my Queensbridge