(Bizzy) Yeah, Daddy's the crackhead Mama's just lookin' for love Marijuana, weedman, little thug We don't call him Steven Breathin' in the garden
much So much love to share, pure blackness, oneness so rare So much love to care, let them know they're missin' out Mama Africa Has so much love to share, sweet blackness
The black, black widow is sittin' in the middle of the web It's the fly she seeks You may be her lover but you never will recover, 'cause She ain't had
and I see your cut So I give you a plaster and we cover it up I say, "Have you been crying?" And you say, "Shut Up" So we sit in the garden And touch
Yeah Bad boy collabo J.R lets get it Look, its Keshia Cole and the black Kenneth Cole black Air one's, all black soul im 'bout to take control like Janet
do Fucked around and gave me that pussy too I be doin this shit on a regular basis Got bitches everywhere in all kind of places I can pull out my little black
on the street Crustin', a way of life for heroines And heroes who hitch hike the road To Eden, not Eden like the garden state Eden like the state of
better on the streets Crustin, a way of life for heroines And heroes who hitchhike the road to Eden Not Eden like the garden state Eden like the state
Jupiter Island is full of pleasures Glowing gardens holding hidden treasures Luminous flowers of yellows and greens Glittering petals that have to be
I'm staying here. Yeah I know that now that's why I'm staying here. Leave the secret talks on the trundle bed. Leave the garden tools in the rusted
right When the planets will align, there will be no planets to align Just the carcass of the sun And little painted marbles spinning senseless Through an endless black
why I'm staying here Oh, I know that now, that's why I'm staying here Leave the secret talks on the trundle bed Leave the garden tools in the rusted
come better 'Cuz we taking loss never Post the notes of exotics Take you back to the tropics 'Cuz you led on a tour by the three black prophets We rock
Don't remember much about my baby days, But I been told We used to live on Willow near the Garden District Next to the Sugar Bowl Momma used to wheel
laugh It's a long way coming down The ladders in your eye For a Wednesday in your garden I think that I would die I tried to stand in your garden But
sunshine being there Relax and let the sparkle in To hide you from the wear And water tangled gardens That are hidden in your hair And water tangled gardens
plane with a bunch of white people watching world cup soccer, man them niggas going crazy, but if there had been some black people watching basketball