bad letters all the way from mars The sky is black and the moon is pale, and we cry for this world of ours In the dark we still believe (oh you know
rub her clit again Pinch the nipples on her tit again Suck my dick until she spit again Please take me back home (Hell yeah) To Mississippi Crooked letter crooked letter
' our hands to buy and supply Chillin' is cool from January to June And we still sticked together like the glue And know the rules Forever you and I and believe
, move in silence I push that the street On blocks to black streets where the murders was meet And stash money keeps a nigga standing on his feet And best believe
believe I'll dust my broom I believe I'll dust my broom Girlfriend, the black man you been lovin' Girlfriend, can get my room I'm gon' write a letter
that, ninja rap You can call it Super Shredder, boss scene, Ross theme You can call it super better, new to this, Ludacris Foolishness, Lu been doin' this since super letters
crossed the line and all the signs were kind of warning. I saw the future like a mother fucking omen. It's my decision to go with my suspicions. Black magic woman I believe
a-way 3 Letter Credit A-Okay Black Card Black Card Girl I Got A Black Card Can I Buy Some Of Your Time And Charge It To My Black Card (Slip Away) (
you think my favorite song The one we danced to all night long The moon like a spotlight on the lake When you think happiness I hope you think that little black
woman, wants every downtown man she meet She's a no good doney, they shouldn't 'low her on the street I believe, I believe I'll go back home I believe, I believe
s house On some pety crime shit, boy, we was not playin' On occasion, I still check ya, brotha 'til the end Black and bone crazy ass Reading ya letters
something nigga Talk about how many hoes, clothes and bank rolls we got Who we got in here? Juicy J, Lil Wyte, Frayser Boy, Crunchy Black Lord Infamous
we?ll meet up tonight black pants red sweatshirt and brown bags above the East River?s northern lights you see what I see I thought it make believe
that about to blaze a sack, where the weed at She don't know how to act 'Cuz that's my girl black with that monster rap, better believe that You know
or a broke nigga Know you all relate to this shit that I wrote niggas Lots of my mans trapped up in a max Penatentary, sending me letters, I answer back
don't sing but nothing brings more pleasure. Than to offer you to awful dudes who worship that thing called cheddar. They've never read of your prophets, gospels, or letters
, the night after finds no end without . . . . . . and beyond critique a completely empty sky, enriched with music We pencil black figures into our utopian
your throat with the premise Middle of New York with a sack full of action Cash with the school kids toke crack with magnums Def Jukie, jet black, black lungs, black
