Worship (feat. The Wisemen)

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Bronze Nazareth

Bronze Nazareth (born Justin Cross in Grand Rapids, Michigan) is a Hip-Hop music producer and emcee associated with the Wu-Tang Clan. He is, along with Cilvaringz, part of the new generation of producers to carry on the Wu-Tang sound as a Wu-Element. He has a solo career as an emcee and is also a part of the hip-hop group Wisemen along with his brother Kevlaar 7. more »

4:19

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Before I ease back the heat clap so relax
Immortal build I'm well fit for combat
Like Amtrak, I speed through and blaze tracks
When time to kill I transform to Sam Jack
The weed blow I'm gung-ho the drama pro
Call a war I hop for it like little Joe
The hard way is hard time for lost souls
In a era of real niggas who never fold
Bout my cho sunshine to rainy days
Thunderstorm when lightning strikes I turn the page
Release rage 12 gage buckshot
I bleed for it, I breath for it, I am the block
Ignored the warning he didn't listen so wish him well
Dark clouds the blunt burning we live in hell
The world turning, get dizzy searching for brighter rays
Stomp the yard I march hard for Illah Dayz
Yo, the city blaze, I tightrope the Everglades
My heart is pure, police scope my written page
Under the table the rats go the ratchet blow
Levitate great, bullets lift to plateau
Assassinate for black gold in escrow
Koresh flow, your best move, relax slow
From hard knocks to Gun Rule to Ward block
The body chalk, the vacant lots where Satan flocks
Get your smocks I'm illustrating like Ernie Barnes
High alarm, get suited for the body farm
Hard bottoms see him in church to send him on
The chopper operate like blenders on red dawn
Detroit taliban clan when the war is on
No white sheets unless the coroner comes
My height reach from bright peaks to lost slums
I shoot the fair one with 2 guns drawn
You niggas dead already, necessary roughness
I'm charged like an ever ready
Built like a hemi in me, Spit like a semi in me
Raised in a pot hole, all I know is gimme gimme
One hundred percent dudes is 50-50, it's that Wisemen
Banging your door down, banging that 4 pound
Suuuuuuu! Coming with more rounds
Wisemen laying the law down, Phillie-Oso
I lust dough to my crew the utmost
I'm cut throat, cut your throat for being cut close
I got a busload of niggas with artillery
Keep all my chicks presidential like Hillary
Highly complicated guy, most can't figure me
Visit every hospital, ain't nobody sick as me
Give me straight shots, no ice in my Hennessey
Married to the mob like my pops from Sicily
Until I'm gone shadow the synagogues
Sincere genius, swallow sinister thoughts
Pen potent some men die for the moment
Seven gat salute, strong arm atonement
Who want it, super clutch MCs poignant
Roll the dice, throw, the rice, good morning
Married to the sounds gamble with the gods
Lost city's warning, guns shots applause
Boulevard results Jean-Michel Basquiat
Ratchet repertoire, I'm part of death wish 4
Blame God yo, he's still got my heart beating
When a witness call, brainwaves stop
Deadly sin the seventh raid the block
Wolves in sheep's clothes is these fangs or not
Forecast exquisite paint rain with life liquids
New climate, typhoons and mental reaches
Needle without the dope track, Clan without the rope stash
Millimeters, nine float in my coat, black
Africanized kill bees inside the smoke stack
We still dope like old crack
Gold plaque stats, we was raised in the cold trap
The type to shatter your dreams and slash you with the broke glass
Stealing my cream that's the opposite of cold cash
Suuuuuuuuuuu! West Detroit, empty the whole mag
I'll make 'em get to the point, end of my cold blade
Exquisite scripts, you follow the road laid
Need a tip? I got a few hollows
Catch 'em like Bo Scaife, Catch 'em ride Bo Scaife

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