Lyrics:
another addict
Who was at it like an asthmatic trapped in an attic
Sucking on an asthma punt
Though you never know by looking at him that's the cunt
look at yourself"
Didn't you know she's gone
Said the man to the mirror a few choice words to myself
Didn't you know she's gone
Talk about
a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For
where niggaz pitchin' that butter
When niggaz up in your mother, they get knocked by undercovers, man
For all my sisters who on they own with they
this man
Lookin' all around doing all I can, damn
He sure look (fine)
By the end of the night he's gonna be (mine)
I thought to myself he couldn't
we ain't have it (We ain't have it)
Got more guns than problems, so I don't panic (How you comin'?)
Man, I come straight out the jungle (Man I come
Only time will tell
Offer these niggas too much
Time they gone tell only grind by myself
Couple lines of the lean and liter
(And my heater) ain't
gonna need you to be patient by the end of the night you see
Gotta be careful with these thoughts, man, it's a chemistry
And if I die because I get mine,
Uh
Okay, okay, okay yo (Woo)
Look
Okay, okay, okay yo (Ait)
Mmh
Okay, okay, okay yo
Ladies and gentlemen T double O N
Yo
Witness (Yeah)
Ransom
Ayo, talk to these niggas, man
You think I made it to forty-two by luck, nigga?
Jackie Robinson jersey matchin' my journey through life
Yeah, ha
and look for Kris
Anything by KRS-One
Will lead you to peace, to love, to unity and havin' fun
y'all know but some of y'all don't
And some of y'all
of waitin'
These industry niggas startin' to get outta hand
Like I won't find your whereabouts by stompin' 'em out ya man (what?)
We killin' New York, even
a plan B if your trap phone startin' to get cold
If somethin' happen to your plug and your bills startin' to get old (damn)
Fourteen, just lead by
is by the horns
A mixture of Whitey Ford and Mighty Thor
I everlast, pen is mightier than sword
Finish writin', then record, replenish, keep writin'
(50)
This rap game, this rap game (yeah)
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin'
Dolce & Gabbana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her 'cause they want her
I spit a little G, man, and my game got her
A hour later have that
us?)
What about the holy land?
(What about it?)
Torn apart by creed?
(What about us?)
What about the common man?
(What about us?)
Can't we set him
need
I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
To get your prescription filled
I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
And man, did he look pretty ill
We
to be black
And some black people look ashamed when I rap
Like my great granddaddy didn't take a whip to the back
Not accepted by the black
a meteorite
So when the studio, no I don't need to write
Man I just came up in the game cause y'all just needed more light
So, so by the time I'm done their
the way)
I'm the only way
We can fornicate
Ah, pimping and posing
Look what I drove in, ah
Having these hoes and I know that I'm chosen, ah
I live by
through chips quickly
When the trash, mail and pizza man see me
They get a fever and cheesy when they see the man Neezy
I'm easily beast and my hand is in
wonderland feeling like the Son of Sam
I'm at your west coast branch, gun in hand
I'ma feel like superman,
Walk by the teller, better call the trooper, man
Only bull you should take is by the horns
A mixture of Whitey Ford and Mighty Thor
I everlast, pen is mightier than sword
Finish writin', then record,
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