Ryan Verbanic

Wellsville High School

Class of 1996

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Ryan Verbanic - Class of 1996 - Wellsville High School

First Name	Ryan
Last Name	Verbanic
Graduation Year	Class of 1996
Gender	Male
Hometown	Lawrence, Kansas
Relationship Status	Single
About Me	Sleeping at the top, nightmares of the bottom Everybody wanna be fly until you swat ‘em But who am I to talk? I ain’t shitting roses We in the same picture, but we all got different poses I’m looking in my rearview, I see the world in it I try to slow down and I get rear-ended Pause! Like a red light, I’m dead, right? Highway to Heaven, God: Do you see my headlights? They say you don’t know what you’re doing 'til you stop doing it Well, call me clueless cause I do this Attention all shooters, I’m a shooting star Life is a course and I'mma shoot for Par I’m searching for today instead I found tomorrow And I put that shit right back like I’ll see what I find tomorrow Young Money CMR, Blood like a scar I’m Weezy F. baby and the F ain't for flaw It's like I have it all, but I don't have to worry Married to the money, a true love story Only God can judge me, I don't need a jury Nothing standing in my way like nothing my security Back to my journey, that bullshit don't concern me If I knew I was going to jail I would have fucked my attorney If you sleeping on me nigga, then I hope you toss and turnin' I'm so cold I'm hypothermic, ask your girl she will confirm it, yeah Now where we going with it? You keep opening your grill, I'm barbecuing with it I know my shit already tight, so I ain't screwing with it Some say this game is a joke, well I hope they get it Okay, I'm walking on needles, sticking to the point Yeah the streets is talking, I'm familiar with the voice I'm a gangsta by choice, I hope my sons choose wiser And don't call me "Sir," call me "Sir-vivor" Uh, call me killer cause I make a killing I got this shit wrapped up, bow and a ribbon That's them twin Glocks, you can call them siblings And them bullets travel, better hope I keep dribblin I touch the sky, get the clouds out my fingernails These bitches think they fly, like tinkerbell But the all on my wire like Stringer Bell I let them be, cause you know how the sting’ll feel Know how to whip that white girl, I can spank her tail And I fuck up any track, train derail Know how to roll, never need training wheels And when the truth hurts, I pop pain pills Uh, all or nothing, or nothing else I bleed reality, I should cut myself Just had a bowl of riches, and a cup of wealth And the F is for "Fuck yourself", uh, yeah And I ain’t doing nothing but getting my share, breathing this air And Mack’s mom told me she gon' keep me in her prayers So I’m feeling alright, I’m trying to stay aware And if you want to trip, then I'mma meet you there To my niggas in the game, keep the game fair Players play, coaches coach, and cheerleaders cheer I’m trying to keep spirit when the ghost disappear Weezy F. Baby and the F ain’t for f...(read more)