| Rolled the dice
|
| Fucked around, lost your life
|
| Double or nothing, it’s only right
|
| It’s only right
|
| It’s only right!
|
| Campaign code as coterie of the cold
|
| Keep us on point
|
| Blasphemy how he cracked the Cohiba for a makeshift joint
|
| Asked no questions, she told no lies
|
| Afterward came by gold flex on the dies
|
| Lucid dream gone when I open my eyes
|
| All substance controlled you sell in Dubai
|
| Gutted inside like a brownstone in Bed-Stuy
|
| Relaxed while Rome burned, head full of lye
|
| Both eyes dry
|
| Lead-line bunker, limited air supply
|
| Both hands high
|
| Explaining how I came unstuck in time
|
| So ain’t none of that mine
|
| Eight lives down 'fore he thought 'bout number nine
|
| 'Fore he thought 'bout number nine
|
| Rolled the dice
|
| Fucked around, lost your life
|
| Double or nothing, it’s only right
|
| It’s only right
|
| It’s only right!
|
| Starting with the man in the mirror
|
| Morris Day and I might jack thriller
|
| Nerve tonic, tip it in sasparilla for ya
|
| Pipe crack said «kid, this stuff will kill ya»
|
| Lay hands like Faith Hill over light skinned shilla
|
| The local skeezer but, shit, I ain’t nobody either
|
| Sweet talkin' son of a preacher
|
| Weed hockin'
|
| Shot over sneakers
|
| Died for nothing but I’ve seen 'em go cheaper
|
| Nowadays full buffet for sin eaters
|
| Woke and wrote Kubla Khan
|
| Or how I learned to stop worrying and roll the ball
|
| Even though forty years had him reluctant to farm
|
| Unbearable likeness at the end of your arm
|
| Waiting to palm, call em
|
| Mr. Lion versus Mr. Marv with the iron
|
| But the work was worthless
|
| Rolled the dice
|
| Fucked around, lost your life
|
| Double or nothing, it’s only right
|
| It’s only right
|
| It’s only right!
|
| She asked my name I said «Blah blah blah»
|
| She asked if that’s game I said «Not really, nah»
|
| Layaway Carhartt buggin over Battle for Asgard
|
| Yo Mars you rock that beat like an ascot
|
| Good lord
|
| You gripped the wired jaw
|
| After the arriganment as arranged
|
| You came home, locked the door
|
| Unscrew the drug jar
|
| Pocket carry like days of yore
|
| The prices will vary with fiends seeking that raw
|
| Freebase religion, stovetop superstition
|
| I ran with the fish
|
| And then hunkered down for that war of attrition
|
| In our tenure on this planet we have accumulated dangerous evolutionary baggage.
|
| Propensities of regression, ritual, submission to leaders, hostility to
|
| outsiders, all of which puts our survival at risk |