<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:47:10.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dA fLipZsTayALz</title><subtitle type='html'>xanga sucks, trying something new!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>88</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-109141691636920980</id><published>2004-08-01T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-01T20:21:56.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Let Me Know"(I know it's been a while, but uhh)Tell me, Ma, are you down for this?I'm so into youI can't get enoughJust let me knowAnd we can goAnd do the things you ain't never done beforeTake you to a little cruise hereTake good care of youYou ain't gotta worryGirl, just let it goI'll ease your mindWe can go anywhereJust let me knowBring you underneath the night skySo I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/109141691636920980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/109141691636920980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109141691636920980' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108898313891706511</id><published>2004-07-04T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T16:18:58.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let's go maLet's uhhTake this to the floor, huhBetchaNevaHeard this nigga flow, huhOnce you do, them panties gotta go, yawpEnough 'bout me, I'd really like to know yaTell me, ma, are you lookin' for a soldier?If not, oh well, really nice to meet yaBut uhhIf yaLike me toPlease yaJust for the night, I'm sure I can please yaFriend wanna come, go ahead and take herI'll do both of you</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108898313891706511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108898313891706511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_07_01_archive.html#108898313891706511' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108837358240333397</id><published>2004-06-27T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-27T14:59:42.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Loving You"(Would you believe that uhh)When I first met youTried my best to get youMama wouldn't let youHow can I forget you, girl?Always on my mindGot me writing rhymesGirl you are a dimeFind me one more timeCome and take my handI'll take you for a danceJust give me this one chanceLet me be your manGirl, it's been a whileI see you've grown up nowYou got me sayin' "Wow"And</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108837358240333397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108837358240333397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108837358240333397' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108702192234499046</id><published>2004-06-11T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-11T23:32:02.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As you all know, it's the end of the school yearAnd as we all go, we finna send our fool's tearsBut you gotta understand that this can't be a vision of sadnessGet out and explore new lands 'cuz this is a mission of gladnessNew emotions and surprisesBest believe you'd be wishin' that you had thisBut don't trip cuz yes indeed every one of y'all has thisMovin' on up from a level obtained</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108702192234499046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108702192234499046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108702192234499046' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108683838746256801</id><published>2004-06-09T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T20:33:07.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Foolish heartI got a foolish heartFirst sightI loved you from the startGave you everythingMy love and my heartBut when you had it girlYou threw it back and tore it apartFoolish heartI got a foolish heartShoulda known right from the startNever knowing you'd assume the partI wasn't smartI was blindI got a foolish heartFirst time we met girl, I was so sureLove at first sight </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108683838746256801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108683838746256801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108683838746256801' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108623843518698232</id><published>2004-06-02T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T12:44:14.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Make It Shine"I remember The very first timeI took a look into your eyesYou were so shy, maYou had me trippin' and surprisedA little deep down, maI admit that so was ICouldn't let you see thoughYou know how guys are with their prideSo I tried to keep my strideBut the feelings couldn't hideIt was so strong, maYou had me staring for a whileI got you glaring at me nowYeah the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108623843518698232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108623843518698232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108623843518698232' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108469067168961976</id><published>2004-05-15T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-16T10:37:58.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mami tell me thisWould you give a kiss?If I wasn't the one toBe the one that buys youAll them types of thingsThat make your body blingGirl, it don't mean a thing Cuz I'm saving for a ringTwo steps gone byAnd you still look flyGot me lookin' to the skySayin' "Oh my my"Can't believe you're the one to be the one I flaunt Girl, this ain't no frontYou're the only one I wantTo be here </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108469067168961976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108469067168961976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108469067168961976' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108356473574050152</id><published>2004-05-02T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T23:28:25.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Everytime I look into my reflection in the mirrorI look into my eyes for answers to make everything clearerCuz every day of my life is a mother fuckin' terrorWhat are the chances that everything will be better?Just a homeless soul lookin' for a shelterSee, I cry everytime I look into my lifeCuz it seems like from day one nothing's ever gone rightI've done my best to stay within the light</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108356473574050152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108356473574050152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108356473574050152' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108345637756231236</id><published>2004-05-01T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-05-01T17:10:38.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Niggah, don't ever ask if I comprehendDon't you ever question my intelligenceYou don't ever want me prove my relavenceCuz my mind flows and it never endsI ain't preachin' cuz I ain't a reverendBut my words should leave you in reverenceSee, I ain't the type to leave you with a broken lensBut I may just lose it, tell me what you'd be hopin' then?Best wish that you got yourself some open </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108345637756231236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108345637756231236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108345637756231236' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108229362658035904</id><published>2004-04-18T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-18T06:12:36.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"2nite"Baby girl I need to see you tonightThe time is rightAnd I just mightBe the one to hold you tightUnderneath the moonlightThese rhymes I writeAre all coming from youAnd the things you doThese feelings are true And I hoped you knewBut you don't have a clueAt what you put me throughTeasin' me and we broke apartLeavin' me and you broke my heartBelieve in me and we'll have a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108229362658035904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108229362658035904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108229362658035904' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108147176959381879</id><published>2004-04-08T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T17:53:17.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yo, it's fucked when your boys turn their back on youAnd people you thought was friends tryna clap on youYou see I've been through this painPlus I've seen all the strugglesMama couldn't give me shit so I had to go and hustlePicture me up on the block every day tryna juggleI was skinny as fuck, but my mind gave me muscleChillin' with the older crowd always got me into troubleWhen this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108147176959381879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108147176959381879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108147176959381879' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108129556476890634</id><published>2004-04-06T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-06T18:50:37.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This goes out to my future wifeEven though I won't meet you until later in lifeYou gotta know that I'll do everything I can just to treat you rightJust show me you understand and shine my lightThough I can't really promise that we'll have no fightsBut know one thing, it'll be you that I'll need each and every nightAnd if you treat me like your only man then we just mightBe together </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108129556476890634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108129556476890634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108129556476890634' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108129265408008717</id><published>2004-04-06T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-17T09:59:33.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Spent a day by myself just figurin'What I could say to help what's lingerin'Too hard to tell and I can't put my finger inThis problem that's going through my headBecause of this, it's tears I done shedAnd it's my peoples that done fledAfter all the evil I done bledI still remember what's been saidThat ICould be something if I stuck throughAnd IWouldn't be hunting for luck tooCuz I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108129265408008717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108129265408008717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108129265408008717' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108127785400298414</id><published>2004-04-06T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-06T12:01:19.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's almost summer time... gotta put them frowns away cuz it's time to smile, ya feel? people just gotta learn to look past that shit... just be happy and enjoy life.A look through this ghetto and you see a bunch of crimesAnd if you see a white couple then you know you gotta rob 'emShit, I'm just jokin'Oh, am I really?Cuz it's summertime, man, and you know it gets sillyBack to the topic</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127785400298414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127785400298414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108127785400298414' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108127553171606913</id><published>2004-04-06T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-06T11:22:37.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Every day we're facedWith decisions that changesOur visions and ways weLive, strivin' to reach the other placesAnd it's all the same with all the other racesWe all walk the earth, but all with different pacesAnd it just amazesMe, that all we do is blaze andNot give a fuck with how we live our days andBe all enraged atHow we're all enslaved inThis life that we all paved ourselves</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127553171606913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127553171606913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108127553171606913' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108127351414753953</id><published>2004-04-06T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-06T19:15:54.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Now, sweet young ladiesPlease listen to my wordsForget what people thinkJust soar like a birdThe world's unfairYeah, I know it's hardBelieve in yourselfAnd only trust in godAlong the pathSome guy will try to hurt yaThey ain't all niceNo matter how they flirt yaForget about impressionsBeauty is all a lieThe only thing I'm worriedIs the tear in your eyeNow picture thisA young </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127351414753953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108127351414753953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108127351414753953' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108112246464739155</id><published>2004-04-04T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-05T21:22:23.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Gotta let it burn"And it's done been burntBurnt to a crisp and never to returnCuz I done learnedWhat my heart yearnedWas none of her concernAll the pain that I earnedIt's a shame, now it's my turnTo make my claimLet y'all know my nameNot for the fameBut to set a frameFor the game Set to be playedFrom the previous flamesOf her devious waysAnd I may just strayFrom what she is to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108112246464739155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108112246464739155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108112246464739155' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108080469953845526</id><published>2004-03-31T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T23:35:17.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Latest changes have left me wondering who I amGreater wages have kept me plundering through the bendWeather rages have swept me, pondering at "who am I to them?"And when It comes around to it in the endWho will hum the sounds of care as a friend?And whenI'm broken down and need a lendWho will hope and frown for me and sendLove and understanding as I bleed and rend?Shove greed and tend</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108080469953845526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108080469953845526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108080469953845526' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108071799706615477</id><published>2004-03-30T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:30:13.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A boy does what he wants, a man does what he needsWhy do I stay with feelings that haunt and make me fall to my knees?Is it really what I want? Will someone answer me please?Because it's tearing me apart and I don't know what to believeWhat's truly in my heart? I see an ignition, but no keySo where do I start? Beginning to think it's all just a teaseAnd to tell you the truth, I've done had</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108071799706615477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108071799706615477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108071799706615477' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108045165285064228</id><published>2004-03-27T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-28T16:00:51.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hearin' a call as I walk through the halls of SLZLeanin' on the wall, standin' tall, this figure be tellin' meThat I have open doors and for sure a lot of oppurtunitiesHeard all this before from the people that be foolin' meSeein' my potential is essential to their plans of feloniesAnd who these cats be thinkin' that they be schoolin' me?Probably the same people that be lovin' theseTree's</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108045165285064228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108045165285064228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108045165285064228' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108040652142381671</id><published>2004-03-27T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-27T08:58:53.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Have you ever tried hard just to make your family proud?So many ways, but you can't find howThat's how I feel and it ain't going awayIt's the same damn shit that I get every dayHave you ever tried hard just to make it on your own?To figure how you'd feel when you're being aloneStill living at homeStill writing these rhymesIt's the same damned life that I wish that wasn't mineEvery </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108040652142381671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108040652142381671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108040652142381671' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108040649682145161</id><published>2004-03-27T08:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T20:53:03.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One day at a timeI see pain passing byFeelin' tears on them girlsEverytime they would cryI'm always hear to listen to my peoples troublesBut when I try to listen, the burden is doubledGetting so behind so I'm down from the restAlways getting pushed cuz I gotta be the bestIf I tried to run away and don't look at the pastIf I was to run away and life didn't lastBut the love that I had</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108040649682145161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108040649682145161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108040649682145161' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108036146536774392</id><published>2004-03-26T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-26T20:27:56.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ok, honey listenMy heart is always spittin'Now everytime we part it's you I'm always missin'I love the glisten in your eyes, it's just beautifulMy life is hard, never know who be foolin' youSo I wanna straighten' up and learn my numberBecause everytime I breathe I miss them days of summerChillin' in the parkChillin' on the blockChillin' at your house til lights after darkShhhhWith you</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108036146536774392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108036146536774392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108036146536774392' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108036143231065816</id><published>2004-03-26T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-26T20:27:23.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's hard to love when you got so much on your mindI'm livin' on the grindNot like them people livin' fineI gotta get mineSo I gotta stay focusThis is real life and there ain't no hocus pocusDetermined to make something big out of rapI do this shit alone cuz I'm always like thatI love all my people and I wanna make them proudEveryday I spit another rhyme just to rock the crowdMy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108036143231065816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108036143231065816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108036143231065816' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108027198200570159</id><published>2004-03-25T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T19:36:31.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Here I amSitting hereContemplating my pastHesitating on chanceTo elevating my stanceTerminating my tranceThat's fascinating my cacheInitiating a clashNavigating the lanceImitating the slashInfiltrating the stabPenetrating my calfSeperating the gashConjurating a splashLacerating the rashAnd decorating my massHibernating the madRelocating the sadConfiscating the badFormulating a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108027198200570159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108027198200570159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108027198200570159' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108026594866357179</id><published>2004-03-25T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T19:39:35.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My mind is blank and I'm feeling so empty I have no reason to care so nigga don't tempt me Just help me understand and tell me How to be a man and lend me a hand Because I can't stand living without a plan All the shit I've been through where any other woulda ran But I'm still here because I know that I can Hold my own landStay strong How can something go from right to wrong? Feel like</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026594866357179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026594866357179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108026594866357179' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108026592196453295</id><published>2004-03-25T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T17:55:31.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Can't deny that I've pushed with my best But as time passes I think that I gotta put this to rest Cuz as far as I could see, we ain't passing the test Wanted way more, but I recieved nothing but less And most of the time I was trippin' all stressed Found myself limpin' and all messed Been doin' some thinkin' and I confess That I probably ain't winning your contest This is what my mind is</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026592196453295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026592196453295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108026592196453295' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108026572344142560</id><published>2004-03-25T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T23:01:48.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Lost and confused in the world of uncertaintyAt what cost would it prove that this girl could find relief in me?Long thoughts overdue of the words in mind and definitelyIt's around time that I take off the blinds and findThat this ain't no time to cry and stop wondering whyAnd start thundering by the clouds and flyThrough the crowds listening to the sounds up highAnd be proud of what </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026572344142560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026572344142560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108026572344142560' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-108026566698645494</id><published>2004-03-25T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:33:24.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If you want another chance then you gotta walk my paceSeein' you with another man done destroyed all my tasteJust wanted some romance and many more of them daysBut uhh, you stood up and ran, all your clothes in your caseThat shit I couldn't stand, done made me hella wanna blazeAnd uhh, I'm not quite sure I can go back to that phaseCuz uhh, it hurt real bad when that land hit my fucking </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026566698645494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/108026566698645494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108026566698645494' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107990728489856337</id><published>2004-03-21T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-21T14:18:08.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Staring at the two that's forcing me to make a decisionThinking of who would be true to holding the plans to my missionPaired hands is steadily what I have envisionedThrough the many years of my sad and lonely pastWishing I could have only had a way to have made things lastAll them tears wasn't because I was mad, but frustrated at how fastThings have slowly changed and crashed and has left</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107990728489856337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107990728489856337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107990728489856337' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983983005861911</id><published>2004-03-20T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T19:33:52.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let me take this time And rhyme About this step father of mineWho showed me signs And lectured lines Whenever I fell into crimesSheltered me with a homeAlways treated me as his ownProtected me like a dog would his boneSo very thankful for all the love that he's shownAnd to him goes everything I oweHe's been the brightest star in my sky And does nothing better than shineMy way And </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983983005861911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983983005861911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983983005861911' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983973388022544</id><published>2004-03-20T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T19:32:16.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Listen to this one timeYo, it's fLipZsTayALz ready to emerge into the gameOn the verge of hitting fameSend that urge to your dameSorry, cuz I ain't tryna splurge onto your flameBut it's just the little surge that I bringNot tryna encourage your sweet thingBut she seem ready to engage the jungle kingHad to back off incase she took a swingEnough of thatI'm just makin' sure that the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983973388022544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983973388022544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983973388022544' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983963718155566</id><published>2004-03-20T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:33:41.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Been lost all care Man, tryna find my place Tryna be somebody but they always laugh up in my face Let's cut it to the chase Let's talk about my past Let's talk about the minutes that I ain't never getting back For my life is trapped Don't ever listen Otherwise Everybody in this world You know they be talkin' Always be tellin' lies Who do I despise In this little life of mine? I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983963718155566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983963718155566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983963718155566' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983960256439637</id><published>2004-03-20T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:32:56.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Life is like a game Everybody gotta play it And when the game is over Ain't nobody gon' say it When every passing second is my question inside If the day came by And I die Would they cry? Cuz I'm tired of all these lies Who's really by your side I survived each day with no means of getting high Kinda funny ain't it? All the shit we go through Sometimes the drug and crew Look like </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983960256439637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983960256439637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983960256439637' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983956938115439</id><published>2004-03-20T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:32:31.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In life I hope and strive I make a steady pride But as days pass by I kept staying alive And when I lay to die I keep tellin' y'all my story And please don't cry When I'm murdered and buried And does the world worry? Cuz my life ain't a concern Unafraid to die I'm just waiting for my turn The pain is like a burn The scar will never go And it's hard nowadays To watch a child grow</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983956938115439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983956938115439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983956938115439' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107983950551170555</id><published>2004-03-20T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T19:41:04.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You could call this the end You could call this goodbye Cuz what's the point of life If you gotta get high? Alone I hurt and cry When I'm plotting in my cell Can't wait til I die See me rot and diggin' in One day they'll hear my tale With my life long struggles Said, every day is me Is another sign of trouble I ain't no stunt double I'm one of a kind And if you think life is easy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983950551170555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107983950551170555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107983950551170555' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107898968529335007</id><published>2004-03-10T23:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-10T23:33:49.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How can I live onWithout knowin' this girl VivanFor the longest and I've been onThe strongest with her onMy case and the ways I spend my daysFlashed them rays to show me through the mazeAnd I'm amazed at how her insight paysOff, during my rough and worst times"Stay tough" be her first linesBefore giving me a piece of her mindShe really and truly is one of a kindThe loveliest of all of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107898968529335007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107898968529335007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107898968529335007' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107898789608306733</id><published>2004-03-10T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-10T22:54:45.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Done met her doin' the vol-un-tah-reh (Voluntary)Oh my, what a sightWould like to know her more per-so-nah-leh (Personally)Caught my attention with more than the phys-e-cah-leh (Physically)Nice eyes and low riseShowin' other guys no thighsGot me askin' why she ain't mineTake my time and study my linesIn my eyes she a dime Ain't no crime in dreamin' somethin' fineAnd I hope that she be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107898789608306733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107898789608306733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107898789608306733' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107865070466289861</id><published>2004-03-07T01:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-07T01:35:08.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm only as strong as the woman behind meNo one there yet, but I'm hoping she could find meAnd love me for the person that I amUnderstand that I'm not like none of themTake my hand and comprehendThe many things I try to apprehendThrough rough times and worst timesI'm hoping she would still have me thenThrough my crimes and still be mineAs I rhyme through these linesAnd I find that she </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107865070466289861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107865070466289861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107865070466289861' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107786332165936143</id><published>2004-02-26T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-26T22:31:32.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How could it beThat women to meBe the way that they areDreamin' of things from afarBut when reality dartsYou see them break right from the startAnd that's what I hate from my partThat I continue to share what's in my heartAfter showing no care for what I've doneI still stare at what could have been wonBut it's a battle I done lost so many timesShook up and rattled as I rhyme these </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107786332165936143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107786332165936143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107786332165936143' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107686854638154327</id><published>2004-02-15T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-15T10:11:42.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm still hurt and healin'Like a bird that's injuredUnable to take flight off this world he livin'But I still have feelin'sFor that girl he kissin'And I'ma hurl just listenin'To the things they dreamin'Plottin' and schemin'About the life they buildin'And his dreams of a wife that she be inPromisin' her cars that she can put her car keys inGod damn I'm sick of bein'The one who's left </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107686854638154327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107686854638154327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107686854638154327' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107636045948592732</id><published>2004-02-09T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T13:52:03.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Reality"Now follow me into the mysticsSee the world through my eyes and realize how deep shit getsInner peace is what I've yet and have to findBut it's hard living in the battlefield of the mindIt's a war, but what are we fighting for?The only cause is to be able to get our point acrossSo we argue and debate, who's weak and who's greatLeaving us in a negative stateSearching and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107636045948592732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107636045948592732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107636045948592732' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635973860503040</id><published>2004-02-09T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T12:51:35.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"My Confession"And now, a story of romanceSparked by a slow danceAnd how it came to be that my heart is in your handsThe first time I caught a glimpse of your eyesI knew fate was to make you mineI approached youAt that time we both knewIn my eyes you were a girl I had to become close toI was totally drawn by your charmAn unspoken bond and the feelings were so strongHow do I proceed?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635973860503040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635973860503040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635973860503040' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635906436473984</id><published>2004-02-09T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-20T21:58:03.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Life is good"I come home and I've been through a rough dayI must say it really feels good just to layMe and stress partin' ways when Marvin Gaye starts to playIn the dark I prayMy love for music is hard to sayThank you, God, for giving me white clouds and parting graysMusic calms all my rageThe problems fadeIt gets me through my longest daysAnd when the pain starts getting to meI </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635906436473984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635906436473984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635906436473984' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635834015003251</id><published>2004-02-09T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T17:12:08.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Loneliness"5:25Wake upWipe my eyesTake a deep sighGet outta the covers and riseAnother dayPush play to ease the painGotta have the music to keep me saneThinkin' of past timesWhen the world was mineGood friends weren't something that I had to findBut now times have changed, everything's reversedMY so called "dawgs" have left me to hurtI stay busy, tryin' to keep occupiedBut </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635834015003251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635834015003251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635834015003251' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635763991131731</id><published>2004-02-09T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T16:13:45.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Childhood"Why did this happen to me?What did I ever do?I can't imagine any sadder thing to put a kid throughWhen will the pain go away?When will night turn into day?It's all grayGod, please answer me when I prayI recall growin' up wonderin' whyDad would tell me all these liesAnd at nights he would secretly cryToo young to understand the torture inside his mindThrowin' stonesMad</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635763991131731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635763991131731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635763991131731' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635674048162310</id><published>2004-02-09T11:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T12:01:27.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Big, buff and 23Runnin' every girl he see'sThinkin', "Man, nothin' bad'll ever happen to me."Until the invincible wiz is given a bibAnd finds that one of his girls is carryin' his kidSo, faced with problems, he ducks out and runsReady to bust oneBut not ready for a sonTryin' to play if off using the same lines"It's not mineDamn, girl, you're out of your mind."But next time you get all</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635674048162310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635674048162310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635674048162310' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635541139685490</id><published>2004-02-09T11:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:39:18.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Fifteen with dreamsBut trapped inside his homeAll alone 'cuz no one ever calls him on the phoneJust a kid with nothin', but love to giveIt's tough to live with all the pain that comes to himBut he's calm and never does wrong despite thatShowin' people love is the way he fights backIt's like everytime he thinks he's found a good personThey kick him to the curb and he's right back to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635541139685490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635541139685490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635541139685490' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635505153682561</id><published>2004-02-09T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:33:18.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>With each moment I develope into a better poetIt's the raw code, only the elite know itWritten scripts mixed with beat flips and drum kitsNot to get rich, but because I love thisHere's the fifth for everyone who's been through shitWalkin' the path of life and can't help, but tripOn the blue collar chip on your shoulder tipLoadin' clips 'til the day the drug game is over withRunnin' the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635505153682561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635505153682561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635505153682561' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635447126206320</id><published>2004-02-09T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T16:57:51.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Gotta hold on"My Lord, keep tellin' me why I should go onHate is so strong, I don't think I can move onBut I know I gotta stay strongI gotta hold onYour love inside of meYour slave is what I'm gon' try to beMy lord, I know I will get byJust wipe the tears from my eyesWith you, I can do no wrongMy lord, I gotta hold onI gotta hold on and give you all that I have left'Til I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635447126206320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635447126206320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635447126206320' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635393064216514</id><published>2004-02-09T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:14:38.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Now she was slightly dressedOut to impressReady to partyGettin' casted for the club scene dyin' to shake her bodyTo get on the set she compromise for the dollarsDancin' freaky with the rappersObsessed with poppin' collarsBrought some hairs and nails, found some playahs that rapWhile she sportin' the tiny shorts and shirt from baby gapMisinformed adolescent, she was teenage oldNever </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635393064216514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635393064216514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635393064216514' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635371735966427</id><published>2004-02-09T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:11:04.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>She looks so fineNo words can defineShe's always on my mindThinkin' of how I could make her mineBut I've done so many crimesNot hard for her to declineThoughts of taking her out for a dineAnd maybe some wineBut I don't have a single dimeI tried to flow a little rhymeBut I stuttered every lineShe gave me a signSaid, "Stop tryin', you're wasting your time."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635371735966427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635371735966427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635371735966427' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635350305860970</id><published>2004-02-09T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:07:30.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I met this one chick at this one showCame up close to try and give this a goShe said, "Thanks thoughBut I don't think soYou may have the flowBut you ain't got the dough."Miss got me walkin' slowWith my head down lowWalkin' out the door</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635350305860970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635350305860970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635350305860970' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635336221610753</id><published>2004-02-09T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:05:09.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Turning short catches into long gainsThis here is how I play my gameI got skllz that I can't explainNo, I ain't fancy, but I do entertainDon't worry about my frameI'll cut and leave tracks of flameEach juke and jive, I'll make you strainDone broke your ankles, your balance is hard to maintainLeave you on the ground with stainsAs I bob and weave to move the chainsEverytime I run, you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635336221610753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635336221610753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635336221610753' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635309347680484</id><published>2004-02-09T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T11:00:40.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am that halfbackThat turns something out of nothingOn the field, I'm quick to smackDirty, you best pick up the slackYou're fading from the packI can see it's speed you lackKeep your mind on trackAll them moves ain't gonna give you a sackDon't come near me, playah, 'less you want your neck to crackBest watch me out backCuz you never know when I'm gonna attackOn the iron, I am the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635309347680484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635309347680484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635309347680484' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635287664746046</id><published>2004-02-09T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:57:03.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am that playah that roll's in the silver Benzo'sType that sport rocks the size of mento'sPick your miss up in the Range Rov'Jet black with the tinted window'sTake her to a place where she gladly bend ov'Maybe later, but not yet thoughGotta see if she can bounce to the 1980 flowShe wanted to give it a goHow could I tell her no?Swirved it up and down like she was a proThought you never</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635287664746046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635287664746046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635287664746046' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635272790074696</id><published>2004-02-09T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:54:34.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been runnin' since understandin' confiscated my globeStuterin' since expression stole the key to my soulStrigglin'  since victory presumed controlBattlin'  since the truth infiltrated my moldSeekin' to find a life in an invinsible holdTravelin' down a path of a difficult roadRunnin' without a clue of bein' left astrayWritin' to express myself in a lyrical wayGazin' at the sky on a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635272790074696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635272790074696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635272790074696' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635246357420572</id><published>2004-02-09T10:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:50:10.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was born in the coldMoved to the heatGot used to the flameNow I spit it on beatI was raised in the wombGroomed by christWith a gift to raise souls from the tombPlease don't assumeI ain't tryna take the spotBlow the spotWorldwide still part of the plotEverybody talkin' about changin' the gameBut everything I hear y'all soundin' the sameFrom the beats to the videosClothes and look</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635246357420572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635246357420572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635246357420572' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635229130990332</id><published>2004-02-09T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:47:18.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's a different dayAnd this particular dayI was thinkin' about life and the part I playMy purpose, man, feelin' worthlessAnd if parenthood really was a part of the plan'Cuz the way I see, I wasn't mean to beJust a great awake, in a love mistakeSo the price was paid and a life was madeThen a wife betrayed, with a son to raiseFoundation layed for the wrong influencePath directed by the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635229130990332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635229130990332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635229130990332' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635203806214677</id><published>2004-02-09T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:43:05.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I think about her every minuteYes, I really mean itIt's true, I can feel itMaybe, I've really found it'Cuz through her eyes, I can see itWonder if she'd give me her digitsMight just be a little thing, but I don't believe itI see you laughin', it's cool, I'll deal with itStill wonderin' if I should bring itI came up close to come with itOh, she's gone done did itMy feelings have been </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635203806214677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635203806214677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635203806214677' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635177866984424</id><published>2004-02-09T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:38:45.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Girl, it seems you're easily persuade'Looks you'll often get layedMatters not if you get paidMight seem that you have it madeBut through the years, your beauty will surely fadeIndeed, you'll be fazedWith what you've done in your days</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635177866984424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635177866984424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635177866984424' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107635158807118170</id><published>2004-02-09T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T10:35:35.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Naw, missAin't gotta do all of thisWe could just lay back and reminisceAin't even gotta touch the bacardi and cris'Talk about the days when we used to get pissedLike that one time when your sister snatched your wristRight after I gave you a sweet lil' kissCame right over and threw a hissI swear I wasn't tryna dis'But she wouldn't have it so she threw a fistCan't remember nothin', </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635158807118170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107635158807118170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107635158807118170' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107598312603037185</id><published>2004-02-05T04:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-05T04:14:27.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I know it's a cliche, but love is like a roseTell you what she gotta say, give a hug and there she goesThis much is true and everybody knowsThat it's all good when she play with your noseUp until she hits you with arrows from her many bowsShe dreams to seeWhat color it may beThe stream inside of you that flowsNobody knows why she does itYou either love it or you hate itActing like a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107598312603037185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107598312603037185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107598312603037185' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107547244541706874</id><published>2004-01-30T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-30T06:24:29.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sittin' here lookin' back at these past couple of daysIt's been rough, true it has, man I'm still in a dazeI can't wait for the day that I get out of this mazeSo many times that I came this close to blazeNever understanding how heavy the heart weighsThe little memoriez that I had just drove me to crazeBut I knew better cuz I know it's just a phazeAnd soon enough, I'll be back to my old </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107547244541706874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107547244541706874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107547244541706874' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537517304575983</id><published>2004-01-29T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:21:44.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You want us rhymin' about a kick back?Ok, listen and just sit backBecause the way I do is like a trick stackNever really knowin' what I'm sayin' cuz I spit mackLet me tell you how it is, how this bit rapsYou ain't heard nothin' until you witness how this hit slapsI'ma tell you a little story about this kid named "Slick Jack"An ok lookin' fella who could use a tic tacNot a lady in this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537517304575983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537517304575983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537517304575983' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537498277942008</id><published>2004-01-29T03:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T06:24:55.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let me explain to y'all why I'm phenomen-ALI ain't better at nothin' than being my own individu-ALMy thoughts and views are all astronomic-ALFor you to understand my way is gon' take a whileBut grown people don't bother cuz I'm just a childThey just nod at my father and send a smileIf they yell it any louder it'll get me riledDon't get the wrong idea, I ain't nothin' wildBut you gotta </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537498277942008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537498277942008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537498277942008' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537501427641314</id><published>2004-01-29T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:19:06.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There's a lotta things I like about this game called lifeFrom the bling that it brings to the fame and hypeLittle things you gotta do just to earn your stripeBut it can easily be stripped with one puff of the pipeLike Tyrese done said, "I like them girls" they're all my typeBut unlike Next, you best believe I don't need no wifeCuz theres a lotta things I gotta do before I take that flight</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537501427641314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537501427641314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537501427641314' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537481884580901</id><published>2004-01-29T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:15:50.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Don't Question, Part2: The Other Side..."Baby girl, don't question my way, my life, my styleJust because you didn't believe the things I done, I did, was to make you smileI didn't get nowhere, I wanted your hug, your kiss, girl, it's been a whileSittin' here with my thoughts wondering why you're in denialGirl, you know we been through so much that I don't want to end it nowWandering </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537481884580901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537481884580901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537481884580901' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537477474114996</id><published>2004-01-29T03:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:15:06.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Don't ever question..."Please don't ever question how I mother fucking runNobody raised me, I'm my own mother fucking sonI ain't never rolled with no mother fucking gunAin't never smoked no mother fucking bluntUnlike G-Unit, this shit ain't no mother fucking stuntI just don't believe that it's the way things are mother fucking doneGo on and say that I'm pulling a mother fucking front</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537477474114996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537477474114996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537477474114996' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537465530986484</id><published>2004-01-29T03:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:13:07.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Better Dreams"I want to know more about yaI can feel it insideLook in your eyesSee the stars with the feelings I hideThey all collideWith my words being simple enoughSay it for only one sentence when you open me upI'm about a lot of bad thingsBut it seldom seemsThat I live life without dreamsAnd a path to keep me byYou and IMight make it To sunnier skiesI can't promise you the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537465530986484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537465530986484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537465530986484' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537455754505773</id><published>2004-01-29T03:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:11:29.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ay yo, I'm dreamin' and I don't wanna wake upBecause it's her I'm feelin' and can never have enoughShe done made the first move askin' me "what's up?"And it's her that stuck through even tho I was roughBut you see, after all this time, she's got me mesmerizedSpending that one night just looking into her eyezGot me sitting here thinkin' if what we have could flyBecause more than anything, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537455754505773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537455754505773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537455754505773' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537453398948152</id><published>2004-01-29T03:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:11:05.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I slowly fell for her while my lonely heart was on the mendNever knowing that feelings I sought would be around the bendDoing things together that I never would have intend'She gave me the feelings that I could truly transcendGave me all the reasons to leave the past and ascendGuy after guy, I had to repeatedly contendDay after day, it was her, I had to defendWeek after week, it was her, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537453398948152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537453398948152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537453398948152' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537449135324199</id><published>2004-01-29T03:07:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:10:23.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>She is my dreamBut what is a dream?A dream is something extraordinarySomething that changes your waysSomething that your heart beats to happilySomething that you believe in no matter what one saySomething that's in your thoughts each and every dayA dream is everything positive you can nameFrom dames to the big game, they're all the sameBut cloudy skies sets a foot before the rain brings</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537449135324199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537449135324199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537449135324199' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537446860623879</id><published>2004-01-29T03:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:10:00.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ever since the day of our introductionShe's been the very center of my attentionAlways in my thoughts causing so many distractionsThe way she lookin' got me feelin' the attractionThe way she movin' got me losin' my tractionFor days I've been thinkin' of movin' with some actionBut too afraid to witness her overwhelming reactionFollowed by a laugh, a point and a show of rejectionI want </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537446860623879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537446860623879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537446860623879' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537444706012814</id><published>2004-01-29T03:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:09:39.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You have no clue what I'll do for youBuy you a black benz and a blue one tooI'll try to keep you cool in them fendi shoesDon't care what they think cuz you my booUntil I die, I'ma stick to you like glueI'll be there to take care of you, when you gots the fluJust to let you know how much I grew, I'ma see this throughWhenever you want to talk, I gots a fewViews about the future, having a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537444706012814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537444706012814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537444706012814' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537442035277057</id><published>2004-01-29T03:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:09:12.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm not physically blessedBut mentally cursedNever ending thoughts That bring out the worstThoughts of thisThoughts of thatMake me wanna burstHaters making jokesDaring to go firstI don't want to be labledAs a man after that purseSo many things in my mindThat'll put me in a hearstBut the thought of her in my armsPuts my life in reverseThoughts of herQuenches my little thirstAnd </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537442035277057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537442035277057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537442035277057' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537438441335244</id><published>2004-01-29T03:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:08:36.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm the type that make you think of what you think you thinkYeah, I know what I said gon' take you a couple of minutes to thinkBust out a couple of bars before you could even blinkFrom afar I spot your miss blowin' me a kiss and a little winkTook her home before I could even buy your miss a drinkShe wanted to get away from you, damn your stench must really stinkWouldn't hurt to spend more </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537438441335244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537438441335244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537438441335244' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537436405875791</id><published>2004-01-29T03:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T06:35:33.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I got no skillz to make the mil'sI'll forever be stuck on these lonely hillsThe way I grew gon' give you a chillJust thinkin' 'bout it make me wanna killNow can someone tell me what the deal?Why they laugh when I show what I truly feelThere's not enough time for these wounds to heal</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537436405875791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537436405875791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537436405875791' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537433243523132</id><published>2004-01-29T03:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:07:44.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Bringin' you the Midwest style to the West CoastStep up to me, playah, I'ma leave you toastWhat's wrong, patnah, looks like you've seen a ghostI know I'm raw, but you'll never catch me boastCuz I know your miss is wantin' me the mostDon't be mad cuz I'm the one she done choseI caught her eye with these stylish clothesAnd made her mine with these lyrical flowsAnd all day she be strikin' </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537433243523132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537433243523132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537433243523132' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537430684933229</id><published>2004-01-29T03:04:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:07:18.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Baby blue navyShe wanna have my babyShe buggin' me 'bout it dailyI said "Baby girl you crazyWe too young to be havin' no babyYou may not see it, but I'm treatin' you fairlyIf I was any other dawg you'd be stretched out, maybeNo, there ain't no maybeYou'd be stretched out surelyNow it seems like you're a nice lil' ladyClothes you wear, attitudes you bare got me thinkin' of you purely</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537430684933229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537430684933229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537430684933229' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537429014106981</id><published>2004-01-29T03:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:07:02.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One time as I was chillin' at the baseMiss caught my eye, made the temperature raiseShe had a pretty faceAnd had so much graceA body which resembled a vaseI wanted to say something, but couldn't think of a phraseStood up to give a chaseShe picked up the paceSeemed like she wanted her spaceProbably thought I was a crazedThen she turned and to my amazeShe held up a bottle of maseHad no</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537429014106981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537429014106981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537429014106981' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537426131740544</id><published>2004-01-29T03:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:06:33.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have feelings for this girl I seeBut does she have the same feelings towards me?I wish I could tell her that she makes me wholeBut I'm afraid to say what's deep in my soulI want to let her know how I feelBut I'm sure she's heard it all before, how will she know it's real?I don't want to lose her, for I would be aloneAnd some days I just can't wait to hear her voice on the phoneShe does</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537426131740544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537426131740544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537426131740544' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537423140844445</id><published>2004-01-29T03:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:06:03.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-First rhyme I done wrote...Girl, will you let me be your everything Your world and all the joy real love can bringLet me be the one to set you freeThe one that'll take you across the seaYour heart is safe with meI promise to place it under a lock and keyI promise to love you for all eternityBe there in your time of needBe your best friendUntil the endTrust, love and loyaltyYou have</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537423140844445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537423140844445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537423140844445' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537406334357723</id><published>2004-01-29T03:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:04:16.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In the beginning I hesitated and debated within my soulWrestling with my feelings knowing you were my goalEnduring the distance all alone and being contentLonging your presence believing that we was meantTo be, admitting that making you happy is my only intentYou're the girl in my life I couldn't breathe withoutAnd I wrote this so that you wouldn't have any doubtsOr misunderstanding of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537406334357723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537406334357723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537406334357723' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537403472196980</id><published>2004-01-29T03:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:02:46.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Every break I come acrossYeah, I'll feel blueAnd I'll be missing her glossYeah, it's trueBut I won't be reaching for a knifeBecause I know it's a lesson in lifeMy Mama raised me rightSo I'ma be politeIt's such a shameShe wouldn't let me be her knightBut I ain't aiming no blamesCuz it's gonna be a different story tonightPlaying little gamesWith cute little damesAnd not even knowing </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537403472196980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537403472196980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537403472196980' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-10753740040660787</id><published>2004-01-29T02:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-29T03:02:16.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As I stood there looking for answers in her eyesShe looked away and gave me nothing but liesGot me thinking for a few, wondering how love fliesI just want a girl who would let me win her a prizeLet me be the one to wipe her tears, whenever she criesLet me be the one she runs to whenever problems ariseLet me be the one to answer all of her "why's"Let me be the only one who be feelin' them </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/10753740040660787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/10753740040660787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#10753740040660787' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537388158025156</id><published>2004-01-29T02:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T23:46:04.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"Romeo &amp; Juliet..."From the families of Montague and CapuletComes a story about Romeo and JulietAnd it's a story that no one will ever forgetBut theres something about it I can't quite getHow fast they fell in love, the hour they first met2 hours in their relationship, a wedding was setOld man Friar thought this would relieve the family threatIt was a decision that the Friar would </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537388158025156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537388158025156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537388158025156' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6278088.post-107537381328163112</id><published>2004-01-29T02:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T23:42:37.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-"A little story..."Let me tell you a little storyA story which is everything, but niceGrab some tissue, it's sure to make you cryGrab hold, here we go to what I call "life"May 12 of 87Sometime around hour 11 in the mornA child was born in the early mornin' stormA child which will grow not knowin' where he fromBecause when the time came to nameGod's sayings were put to shameThe </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537381328163112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6278088/posts/default/107537381328163112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flipstylez87.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107537381328163112' title=''/><author><name>Mark</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07105509763557825260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
