Lyrics:
What's broken you don't try to fix
'Round here, there ain't no whys and ifs
You don't pick up what you can't lift
I raise my hands up to the sky
and shit
Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady
It's Game, sick in the brain
Sick as the day that I came
Hennessy runnin' through my veins, I load up the clip
Land of the blind
President Mean, well he once had a dream
Bout the world in his hand
Then sold them a scheme, life support the machine
Off the fat
answers
Wishing they was handed to you by all the masters
Got a black eyed halo, a black eyed halo
Banged and bruised up, nowhere to go
Digging
somebody’s hand
Living for Likes! Living for Likes
Hey man, did you see how many likes I got on that post I put up
Communication, collaboration, oh we’re so
The vandal's back, hands on Angela Bassett
I handle my plastic, gun play I mastered
No coke, dope mixed down with acid on record
Broken down and crafted in
knocking em out with my hands
Understand bow down, and show some respect
We clicked up and heated, with knives hanging round our neck
I'm a cold blooded
Red black and green that's the cheat code
We be in the East but they gon' tap in from on site or remote
I be lookin' piqued in this pea coat
Then I
and cut like machetes
And I'm rockin the shit steady
Like no doubt, the show's sold out
They know how I rolled in when I rolled out
Black Eyed Pea
Clamped, Chanel number nine
Came out a clam, blew out her mind
She like, damn, bitch blew a line
Now she wanna dance,
Serving black eyed peas, like Sam-I-Am
Better match
Cuz yah mans
Don’t miss
I Blew up my digits
My hands don’t twist
Ha
I blew up my digits
My hand don’t twist
I just need to
Give into my
blinded by the pain
That I got up all inside
Been a victim to ways
Boy that traffic, It ain't light
Said I can't really escape
From the killers in my mind
If it's up to me feast
Everybody eats baby girl bagging peas down on her knees
Don't pee skimmy me don't pee
She likes to taste it
She thinks it's
you don't got
Plus you probably never licked a shot from your Glock
Walkin to my car witcha nine out the holster
Put your hands on the steering wheel
came and sat by my side
and said, "MmmmmMMM! You know I smell good"
I said to myself, "Please oh please reverend now would
you speed up the sermon so I
slippin (I'm neva slippin)
Say what you want
I really give a f**k
Sleepin on me
Boi you gotta wake up
Going to the top
It ain't gonna be luck
Black Eyed
Slow up
To appreciate the rhymes
On September 9th, 1995
I came into the world bushy tailed, bright eyed
Hand on my face contemplating what to do
Few
The vandal's back, hands on Angela Bassett
I handle my plastic, gun play I mastered
No coke, dope mixed down with acid on record
Broken down and crafted in
looking in, yeah
I've traveled here and everywhere
Following my job
I've seen the paintings from the air
Brushed by the hand of God
The mountains
Got this bug-eyed girl
Cold hand on my knee
Frozen teeth chitter, chatter
She's dressed up like a cemetery
Like a cemetery
Snowbound all
eye for a eye
Niggas wanna live like fuck gettin by
Penthouse suite like fuck gettin high
Brand new whip can't eat in the ride
Me and yo bitch like peas
kick in the door play it some more
This is the evolution of emcee who dissin us?
Gettin Rah stick up nigga hand me ya listeners
Get a job we here
Beautiful is black, Beautiful is black
Beautiful is black, Beautiful is black
Beautiful is black
Promised I'd write my way up out my mama house
Now
hard to beat
As the stranger knew then the toughest two by far were where he sat
Was a pot belly fellow from south Alabama and a dude in a black felt
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