People round here Call me an airhead The folks round here Red light warning Should go play with the traffic Red light warning Break down coming Know I like a bottle of wine Think I'm better off dead Ain't too refined

Play dead, play dead with me Close your eyes and don't speak Lay with my body Slow down your heartbeat No need to escape We can find our own way You got me hiding in cupboards 'Cause darlin' you're the only one I can't stand the TV screen

How's it goin' down? If it's on 'til we gone then I gots to know now Is you wit' me or what? What type of games are bein' played? A lot of niggas cut the cheque so they can take this flow What these bitches want from a nigga? On some DMX shit I grew weak

I never was the biggest or the fastest guy I never hit a homerun when the game was tied I knew from an early age I wasn't going to be A doctor or the CEO of anything So I sang, She Believes In Me And I played, Fire On The Mountain 'Til I made my fingers

No one knows what draws the moth to the flame And nothing costs as much as playing the game She had to know, know, know, he'd give love for sex He had to know, know, know, she'd give sex for love The taste, touching his tongue, sweet to his lips Poison,

Born from silence, silence full of it A perfect concert, my best friend So much to live for, so much to die for If only my heart had a home Sing what you can't say Forget what you can't play Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes Walk within my poetry, this

All night long (all night), all night (all night) All night (all night) We're going to party, karambo, fiesta, forever Come on and sing along All night long (all night), yeah (all night) Let the music play on We're going to party, limin', fiesta, forever

And now the final frame, love is a losing game For you I was a flame, love is a losing game Five story fire as you came, love is a losing game One I wished I never played, oh what a mess we made Played out by the band, love is a losing hand More than I

Nobody stands in between me and my man It's me and Mr. Jones (me and Mr. Jones) What kind of fuckery is this? You made me miss the Slick Rick gig (oh, Slick Rick) And thought I didn't love you when I did (when I did) Can't believe you played me out like

Grandma's hands Clapped in church on Sunday morning Played a tambourine so well Used to issue out a warning She'd say, "Billy don't you run so fast Might fall on a piece of glass "Might be snakes there in that grass" Soothed a local unwed mother Used to