Lyrics:
Put a price tag on ur head no snap back
Crystallized rhymes in a vial dat crack pack
Cut off both of your hands no clap back
Shoot for loot Truth in
weight by the key and backed up every gram
And stay ready for busting wit the pistol in they hand
I'm preaching murder like a vicious reverend
About
the ones that bought in
All the dirty money moving around they can't get caught in hand
Yea The glares match the stares comin at em
It's metropolis all over
used to bleed like a suicide mother
Flame on
And now I breathe in this dirty black summer
Flame on
I bought the truth in the mouth of my brother
of the matter
Have a black humour and history
Thanks to Lorraine Maher
No blacks no dogs
This community slept in digs
While it dug tunnels through the London clay
serve it while it's hot
I'm flowin' like a volcano, I'm drippin' verses off the top
Dirty cops still swervin' on the block
Lookin' for black kids, that
Fuck fame, when miss thang got a dirty name
Crap game and fuck niggas smoking zut suits
It was bound to happen across my black boots
And nigga fuck
Hahahahaha, yeah
It's your nigga young Khalifa, man
Chris Breezy
All my ladies put your hands up
Yeah, Taylor Gang
All my ladies put your
inside the game, it's too big
It's a tight fit never made a bad song
They don't come out of my lips
Got the game by the neck
Won't let go I got tight grip
hand
That she talk that lil ass
Chain in the backyard
Beaten ya ass up the stairs
There wasn't any backtalking, lip smacking
Smacks lips eye rolling nah
wicked dirty white rocks stuff in my bridges I got black tint on my lenses I hide my pain bitch u want understand me
In my home I cry alone I hope these
a mark
I bet you get your ass kicked hanging at the park, bitch!
You'd better watch your back
Before you get jacked by a nigga with a gat
Cause Life is
There's a black cloud overhead that's me
And the poison ivy chokes the tree again it's me
I'm the filthy one on bourbon street you walk on by
tried to keep us there
The streetlamp covered us in dirty gold
your lips were hot against the cold
and your hair a black raven
into my hands it fell
Rogers
Or DVD by Ashara Kwesi
And let your soul roam free
Amos Wilson told us
In the 70's of black poverty
Dreamz
Dreamz are realities that we see
I
entity on my lifeline
This little light of mine I might shine
Is enough to leave anybody eyesight blind
Men in black, A black man from the sideline who
on me time for all that cash we wasted
Books and housing fees
I'm feeling old at twenty three
I'm weirded out by young ass hoes
They never seen a dvd
My
hand, two hunnid inside the band
Don't look directly in, you're bound to get an aneurysm
Crib in Florida (Florida), six corridors (yes)
All marvelous,
don't spark a lightbulb in your mind
Then why the hell am I paying PECO
Might as well been riding dirty outchea
My potty mouth need proof or a new peacoat
the gist, better give some suck
You changing your planet, you need you a truck
The shit that I'm planning, you shit out of luck
Hands get too dirty, I'm still
Who’s that? Get back, draw for the MAC
That’s right, that’s an Esco lyric
But right now I’m possessed by Esco’s spirit
(Headshot) Will have a nigga
the one, you are the one
Amazed by the way that you shake them hips
Shakin' your ass all on my dick
I get aroused by them sexy lips
'Cause you are
Passin' niggas with pants saggin'
With they hand on a black Magnum
To clap him backwards
So their last words is, "Kcuf meht nmad saggin"
That's
hands hidden by vines
And we sip from the wine like kisses from poisoned lips
See the blind can only lead the blind into the abyss
Word to the massive,
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