Lyrics:
every beat I murder without any fucking knife
Mo se single mo se feature mo tun se album
Hope never dies my brother see never give up
Mo se reggae mo se
Till I got enough to make bank
Till my respect is earned n' paid
I've done a lot as the years growing older
But deep down inside to be honest I want more
From the new album "Time The Conqueror"
GIVING THAT HEAVEN AWAY
By Jackson Browne
Pretty Nova, one year over
Legal age of consent
In the flower
at In-N-Out
Or some other shit that I don't give a fucking shit about
You bloody marks are all snark
I can see you sippin' Cutty Sark in a golf cart
So meet me
'cause I
Tipped her with Monopoly money she was
All pissed! She said, 'That's fake
Money!' I said, 'Them are fake titties!'
Git-R-Done, that's right real
Verandering is fair weet niet of ik 't vertrouw
Want als je anders bent gewend dan voelt 't nieuwe leven fout
Kom van een wereld waar d'r niemand om
for artist to make some Real bread
We will prevail and take over all facets of the music industry
All of us are over it
So we takin' over it
So cold
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
Egyptians knew where it was at
Completely conditional
My feelings for you are two fold
One like climbing a pyramid they're hard
The other like walking
aside jy, the road is long
And gassed up rappers are traffic backed up
On the N1 highway
But I'm a fighter pilot Jet
The knight in Flights
At night take
Lihou is back in action
My last album was only part of me, I wasn't whole, and that's a fraction
Cause I'm the one on top of these lines, you guys are
profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be giant sized,
Come to my school. Get pimp-matized.
In your school, what do they
want to be,
You're gonna have to learn pimpology.
Pimpology, a pimp's profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be
in every aspect
Before their only focus was just a cashed check
Their vocal cords are sewage pipes spewing s****y trash
I dispose of em in my mental
come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh
[Chorus]
Yo, I'm the N the A to the S-I-R
And If I wasn't, I must've been Escobar
You know
the corner store
Many try, many die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Yo, I'm the N the A to the S-I-are
And If I
from the start
Ran for the finish got detoured from the fast route by another
One spot holder hold ground for our town, N.Y.
For those who
Know’ and ‘Pop The Trunk’
And I was gone, no turning back, Shady Records for life
By that time I’d picked up the pen and began to write
‘Kings Never Die’
bimmers, black tar that top tier
Rappers dyin' day to day like kids jumping off the pier
I said lemme slide for a feature, he said say less
Peeped the album
and its beautiful
Sweet lies defeat lives
Sour Tears are cried, as the fucking years go by
Let the beat energize
In the streets we scream the songs to make
got a new blade
Drop it in a the kool aid
Using download the album i with the bootlegged
In the boot shape state kick n push like Lupe
U know I did it
a yawn mower
To finish up the final Jetta album to brawl over
Ironic that I'm done but when I drop this sh*t y'all over
Because this sh*t y'all under
gotta dance
Yesterday I said I'd go to sleep
With a broken heart
Now I gotta work, end up with broken arms
T is the n-o-n plus ultra
Aiming with a mitra
to present to y'all
A motherfucker from around the way, Westside
Goes by the name of, what they call you homeboy
You know what it is, tell 'em who you are
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