Lyrics:
wicked deams (deamons)
I keep my pistol by my bedside one in the chamber
Preoccupied with homocide my life's in danger
Rollin down the four-five beware
16th Chamber, temple number five
Somebody said it's on
If it is then I'll be set
To blow a nigga up
With my Five Fingers of Death
I bring it
A five foot seven guy, privately educated and white
I just get into the groove, add some funk and indie too
Give my vocabulary room, this ain't
Words and music by Bob Hartman
Based on Proverbs 3:6, 1 Peter 5:8, Matthew 16:24
Smell the burning powder?
There's danger in the air
A voice from
Already missed like five (LINES)
MOVE
Better stop, drop, groove
Cause I’m the fire in the room
Don’t hit that snooze, man (Nah)
Guaranteed, you will lose
I
guts off the floor
Enjoy your five long nights
Keep an eye on the time and
A light by your side
I know you're frightened by the
Thought of what's inside
And I'll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield
So bring your grip or you can think twice
'Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice
I'm
better move it
Yeah baby, you gots ta move your groove
To prove that you supposed to groove in the moon
As I recite naughty nothings in yo' eardrums
Firmin, just a brief reminder
My salary has not been paid
Send it care of the ghost by return of post
P.T.O.: no one likes a debtor
So it's better if my
groove
Then you know what that prove
Man, it can't be us
If the words they said
Ain't stuck in your head
And the content's dead
You know that ain't us
If
If the beat don't rock
Make the dance floor pop
When the bassline drop
Then it can't be us
If your feet don't move
When you hear that groove
Then
wicked deams (deamons)
I keep my pistol by my bedside one in the chamber
Preoccupied with homocide my life's in danger
Rollin down the four-five beware
we be flyin' like comets
Slick with the tongue word out to my vomit
Master of the Sun, we rocking these comics
Better beware, spiritual warfare
just a level up to the fiends
You sick? I'm the vaccine, no Vaseline
Mood like young Cube, car like Christine
My rap drive vicious, v8 motor up and down
by the 9
Fuck the dumb shit, I run this, a whole life of crime
Ain't never had shit, but always had my pistol, bitch
187, don't make me whistle, bitch
Cocked! If you don't want a burn from GLOCK
Then beware, I buck shots, we move up, the buck stops
Here, no more dough will be made
Unless it's being made by
When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified
Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide
My rap flow does you like
Cocked! If you don't want a burn from GLOCK
Then beware, I buck shots, we move up, the buck stops
Here, no more dough will be made
Unless it's being made by
When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified
Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide
My rap flow does you like
When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified
Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide
My rap flow does you like
girl long hair don't care
Baby girl think I'm sexy, holla at me I'm rare
You better satisfy my needs if you don't want me to share
You might be the lucky
Better keep your hammer right by your side
I gave you the best flows
On top of that, I even made niggas set goals
I want to know how many bullets can
but I gotta groove when I get in it
Make bread imma throw it imma spend it, make it back x5 get me a new pendant
They all onna wave cause we winning, I
Prayer better prepare, gird up it's time for WARFARE
I don't know What You've Been Told, I don't know What You've Been Told
Jesus Died to Save Your Soul,
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