Lyrics:
i was raised to be a victor
And im clutch like a field goal kicker
Judge a kid by his weapon, house ball V
We at the alley haven't seen em in weeks
So
advantage because of the kamikaze
He took a swing for my head, thought I was faded
Start running for the door but the fucker never made it
The sound
too, so I made a song you can sing along to
And it goes like this
One, one, one thoughts are manifesting
Two, two, two baby why you stressin'?
Three
make your way on down the sea,
Something has take you so far from me.
3: Cathedral Song
I saw from the cathedral
You were watching me
And I saw
gonna waste no more time
Tryna find a dime, when it's all gonna be mine
Let em shine, I'ma give it all back, hold it down
Something special, yeah it
Uh, GOOD Music, this our year
Backing drums by DJ Premier
Now let me count it down
Who the fuck up in here
Common, Don, Old G, battle rap, oh
That
out to L.A.
And I rented me a palace down by the sea
A small town boy to a California king
I rolled up in my limousine
Paparazzi on the scene
I'm
or three or four
The man who strums the old guitar
Is standing by the door
The banjo and the mandolin
Have joined the phantom band
A woman, once from Carrick
Mariana Trench
And thinkin', holdin' my breath, until I feel 3-2 like Wretch
Until my last bastard breath
I'ma cut man down on a barberous flex
Who
to the door
Close your eyes, count to ten
It'll all be over then
Let the Prophets do the work
Down low, shake it, twerk
Up on this track with Bogdan
a door
Kitchen on burn, pigeon on perm
Three different digies all lit up like a fur
Nigga where your fee, see the white right here
It's a Meddellin
but you not worthy of me saying it out!
YEA!
My Darling
Your Phone!
Cannot Ring
No more by Me
Unless its a song written by
Me...
(Unles it's a song
And as a special treat this evening
I have asked America's foremost young poet
To read his latest poem for us
"Ladies and gentlemen"
legends, the kings with the, crown
They try to slam the door but we kick it, down
Likwit town, L.A. California where Tha Liks get, down
L.A. California where
we needed him for
And the priests and the shieks and the czars and the rabbis
Smile bright while we close the door
But Jesus wasn't a chrisitan,
I slid by the restroom
And all I heard was zoom-zoom-zoom
I see you peekin', but you ain't speakin'
Put your drink down, think now, stop tweekin'
I slid by the restroom
And all I heard was zoom-zoom-zoom
I see you peekin', but you ain't speakin'
Put your drink down, think now, stop tweekin'
like my riches
A yo, I'm Murphey Lee the school boy
The civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five, but six whores
For equality, Vokal,
of this ho (huh)
My Rollie got Skittles, you taste the rainbow (Skittles)
Kick down the door, lay 'em down, Kurtis Blow (on God)
Droppin' the load in
Man that habibi shit
It's that's hot shit man
Three ninety five lunch special at the Hunan express
We the merge lane I let them all pass
(After you)
wonder
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightening ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I
wonder
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightening ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I
in row 3.
He spits, he drools, he points his finger at my face.
This lad obviously possesses the aggressive trapped energy which puts your fist
Diagnosed autistic, knew there was something different
Tried everything in power to try to make a difference
Got around the age of 3, worried that you'd never
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