posted on:2009 years
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Check it out - it s eleven-thirty,
My hand is getting dirty
Snatchin up things that probably can t be waitin
Now this is a vision of a violent life
Livin by a guard and totem of the night
I m slamin doors 2-4-5 n pullin the keys
Now these are the traged valuable luxuries to me
In the early dawn, before you yawn
I ve been there swiped you and then I m gone
Now it s six-o-clock, my heart tic-tacs
A black sadden bag full of bad ass rocks
My identity has to be exposed
Stealing from the spot that I chooly chosed
I lose and enfuse my choice to chose
Now I m sick and I m fallin deeper in the mess
There s no hope for me, see??
My path has been chosen I m Johnny B
Johnny B, how much there is to see
Just open your eyes, and listen to me
Straight ahead, a green light turns to red
Oooh why can t you see, oooh Johnny B
Johnny B, how much there is to see
Just open your e
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