Ready or not One little kiss Here she comes, here we go When she pulls the trigger, I'm a loaded buckshot A kick to the bull at the rodeo But here she comes, here we go It's a match to the fuse The last bell in school It's a match to the fuse, the last

I, I'm dreaming, dreaming of a white, white Christmas, y'all Just like the one that I used to know, oh Honey, it's where the treetop, treetop listen Little bitty, little bitty, little bitty children should They try to listen To hear, before the sleigh

All I need is love One day I'm up, the next I'm down One day you're here, the next you're gone And I'm just a little bit I'm just a little bit lonely And I'm gonna pull through To shake off the blues I need your sweet, sweet love To get me on my feet

You got the kiss that tastes like honey And I got a little beer money So come on, come on, Baby, I'm buying I got enough to last us all night and Tonight, tonight Baby, we're drinking Let's wake the town that never stops sleeping When the lights go down

I began to understand why God died The air begins to feel a little thin And then I felt chills in my bones The breath I saw was not my own I knew my skin that wrapped my frame Wasn't made to play this game And then I saw him, torch in hand He laid it

One little victory Just one little victory The greatest act can be Celebrate the moment As it turns into one more Another chance at victory Another chance to score The measure of the moment Is a difference of degrees

All of my lovin' and everything The little girl she done put me down Yeah, ain't that a pity People ain't that a cryin' shame Ain't that a pity I declare it's a cryin' shame She wait till it got nine below zero And put me down for another man I give her

'Cause everyday we oughta have pesos This is the way it goes, this is the way we roll Gun cock Gun shot, gonna lick a boy Gun clock Gun shot, gone a little boy I be that pretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm repping Tell my nigga split the bitch and we

Where it's at I got two turntables and a microphone Two turntables and a microphone There's a destination a little up the road From the habitations and the towns we know A place we saw the lights turn low Jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow Pulling out

Yeah, we back Back in Muhammad crib, nigga, top floor The back room with just the one little small window, nigga The light be comin' through it in the morning Old-ass walls and shit But it's just like I remember, just like I wanted it Yeah, I'm workin'