Lyrics:
When I was just a little baby boy
My momma used to tell me these crazy things
She used to tell me my daddy was an evil man
She used to tell me he
When I was just a little baby boy
My momma used to tell me these crazy things
She used to tell me my daddy was an evil man
She used to tell me he
bawling, bursting at the seams
Naive, raised by confidantes and a dream
Dressed all in white with a crown of roses
Thorns hold your eyes, too ingrained
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
You got me playing simp songs on the stereo
Still thinking 'bout last night, you're troubled, aren't we all?
The crazy pull that gravitates my full
Taken by lack of plans
Riding your empathy
But rides only go so far
She said to me with a smile
I recognize your face
But little does doll-face
blue Russian with us, semi automatic gun and I dare somebody to make my day
Dirt road cruising, doing sixty to a hundred
Got the stereo cranked,
I accept your challenge
Face 2 face you oppose now show
No crew no weapons let's see what you know
Though you claim you're hard I got ya barred
By
Gray skin and yellow fins
Our new cosmopolitan
Invade
We’re afraid
Alien adrenaline
Rains down in Washington
God send
And he sends us one by one
altered skyline.
It's times like these I freestyle biased opinions every other sentence.
My journalistic ethics slip when I pass them off as objective.
we’re blinded by the glare
Of all all this artifice and glimmer
When what we really need is a little more love
And if we satisfy all our avarice and lust
for me behind those blackened hills
Method actors, no lines to learn we busy through our parts
Our sense of self outside of who we are
More than I can
night
While the storm is raging outside
Lit up by the stereo light
Yeah, you know love songs ain't for us
Nothing could explain 'bout the way it
rewind time, I'd spend one more night in Brixton
Beneath the skyline with our fingers intertwined
London let me fall too hard and
London let me scatter my
word
And I say a little more, later on tonight
So the sucker MCs can bite all night
A tick a tock, y'all, a beat beat, y'all
A let's rock, y'all, you
Got you counting from on to ten
And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind
Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes
Send
filled in
Is Hell really suggested?
No more persons arrested, a child molested
A little kid says: "Yo I got a color TV, CD
Player and car stereo
actin' bad, on some Malcolm in the Middle shit?
Play a stupid game and win a stupid prize ya little bitch
More the shoe fits, the higher your chance
up... and the clouds is my floor
Could say I want it all
Need a little more specific
Then you don't know Jamal
These words are my pain
And for everyone I
Just a little bit of ino-i-i-i-innocence
A little bit dumb
On goes the stereo
Off come the pantyhose
In strolls the bearer of hurt
There goes the person
a speech about how she's feeling
But I'm more intrigued by her lilac ceiling
Any time now there's a question pending
She wants to confirm a romantic ending
on your stereo
T.K.O.
Watch a live video
T.K.O., T.K.O.
Night is young
And we all know what's up
Beyond the seventh sun
The ocean calls us
Away
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