Welcome
(Contact Info: larry at larryblakeley.com)
Important Note: You will need to click this icon to download the free
needed to view most of the images on this Web site - just a couple of clicks and you're "good to go." For reasons why - go here.
A listing and access link to all:
song lyrics and mp3 audio files http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/songs/ (all of which are a part of this Web site) can be accessed simply by selecting the "htm" file for the song you want;
poetry http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/poetry.htm;
quotations http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/quotations.htm; and
essays written by Larry Blakeley http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/articles/articles_larry_blakeley.htm,
all of which are used to tell the story in this Web site, can be accessed by going to each respective link set out above.
My son, Larry Blakeley http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/larryblakeley_photos_jpeg.htm manages this Web site and the following Web sites:
Larry Blakeley (Contact Info: larry at larryblakeley.com)
Leslie (Blakeley) Adkins - my granddaughter
Lori Ann Blakeley (June 20, 1985 - May 4, 2005) - my granddaughter
Evan Blakeley- my grandson
Major Roy James Blakeley (December 10, 1928 - July 22, 1965) - USAF (KIA)
When I was young my dad would say
Come on son let's go out and play

No matter how hard I try
No matter how many tears I cry
No matter how many years go by
I still can't say goodbye
- "I Still Can't Say Goodbye," Performer: Chet Atkins
MP3 audio file/lyrics http://www.royblakeley.name/larry_blakeley/songs/still_cant_say_goodbye.htm
For a larger image click on the photograph.
It's 50 a.k.a Ferrari F-50
Break it down
I got a lot of living to do before I die
And I ain't got tyme to waste
Let's make it
You said you a gansta but you neva pop nuttin'
You said you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'
You ain't a friend of mine, (huh)
You ain't no kin of mine, (nah)
What makes you think that I'ma run up on you with tha nine
We do this all tha tyme, right now we on tha grind
So hurry up and copy and go selling nicks and dimes
Shorty she so fyne, I gotta make her mine
A ass like dat gotta be one of a kind
I crush 'em everytime, punch 'em with every nine
I'm fuckin with they mind
I make 'em press rewind
They know they can't shine if I'm around the rhyme
Been on Paroza's, 94 cuz I commit tha crime
I send you my line, I did it three ta nine
If D's ran up in my crib, you know who droppin dimes
You said you a gangsta
But you neva pop nuttin
You said you a wanksta
And you need to stop frontin'
You go to the dealership
But you neva cop nuttin'
You been hustlin a long tyme
And you ain't got nuttin
Damn Homie, in highskew you was tha man, homie
What tha fuck happened to you?
I got tha sickest phonetta, when it come to tha chedda
And if you play wit my paper, you gotta meet my berretta
Now shorty think I'ma sweat her, sippin on amoretta
I'm livin once than deada, I know I can do betta
She look good but I know she after my chedda
She tryna get in my pockets, homie and I ain't gonna let her
Be easy, stop tha bullshit, you get your whole crew wet
We in tha club doin' the same ol' two step
Gorilla unit cuz they say we bugged out
Cuz we don't go nowhere without toast we thugged out
Me I'm no monsta, me I'm no gangsta
Me I'm no hitman, me I'm jus me, me
Me I'm no wanksta, me I'm no acta
But it's me you see on your TV
Cuz I hustle baby, this rap shit is so easy
I'm gettin' what you get for a brick to talk greasy
By any means, partner, I got to eat on these streets
If you play me close, for sure I'm gonna pop my heat
Niggas sayin they goin murd' 50, how?
We ridin 'round with guns the size of Lil Bow Wow
What you know about AK's and AR 15's?
Equipped with night vision, shell catchers and dem things, huh
- "Wanksta," [Bonus] Lyrics - Music: Clervoix, Freeman, Jackson