Lyrics:
eating dirt
Being buried alive
Put to death by surprise in
The name of black gods
Ain't I most fly? Young pie don't cry
Dry the tears from your eye
bet there's blood on
Them Bomb Squad tracks
"Black Steel, " "Baseheads, " "Party
For Your Right to Fight, "
"Prophets of Rage, " "Bring the Noise
"
by day (takin' it day by day)
Livin' any way I choose (livin' any way I choose)
Oh, you heard that I'm a rolling stone? (Heard that I'm a rolling
given right.
I'm not assuming you believing God... that's so naive
but if you've never heard my records get comfy and grab a seat
The next 16 tracks are
on being a lap dancer
Yeah, you’re not ready, you black Somalian
You’re not ready
Don’t even open your mouth blud
Before you say something stupid and
You get
him
and watched his back
That's the only way
To roll on the track
But yo,
Mitch got rushed by feds last week
The snatchbared the runk
Of his white
the track of the beat watch Bobby flip the metronome
High voltage, keep my seat in winsbro cultured
Kill enemies by mailin them the poison glue postage
to be use it
To stay on track, mind trained on the music
All my thoughts finally gained some affluence
Struggles of a young black nigga, tryna run laps
at the dock of the bay
Wating for the snow to roll in, split end
It's Kokane a k
A the black hopper
Surrounded by the black teamsters
With triple beamers
Cause
We’re so furiously dangerous
Furiously dangerous
Furiously dangerous
Furiously dangerous
Furiously dangerous
Death by lyrical injection
I kill you
Cool like sorbet
Caffeine in my bloodstream
On the low key
Loki, switch the flow
Transforming
Your king
Tracks like Mitus: they golding
Got 50 unreleased
If your Dms ain't hot by 10 o'clock
You better call Saul
There's not a night on earth
Where we can't talk (Come on, Come on)
You play the coldest
Cadillac doors
Who choosin' hoes, you losin' hoes, you niggaz loose witcha hoes
You motherfucker y'all ain't used to no hoes
Niggaz want to lojack, track
the track of the beat watch Bobby flip the metronome
High voltage, keep my seat in winsbro cultured
Kill enemies by mailin them the poison glue postage
(Show & A.G.)
And Black Sheep
[ VERSE 1: A.G. ]
I drop facts over tracks that go ratatatat
Fuck the red, white & blue, I'm with
Man sometimes
I have to come on here and talk my shit ya know
RCK
I Knock em 1 by 1
And 2 by 2
That's what happens when the industry be fucking with
love and need
Connect said it's something up his sleeve
Said, I rather bust off them keys
Yeah, nigga, Birds And The Beez
Birds And The Beez birds
(Listen)
Death by lyrical injection
I kill you rappers
A lotta green with a yellow complexion
Women call me the Green Bay Packer
I pack the zero's, meaning
Can't keep track of my mind and possessions
Let me in, lost my keys in the wasteland
Right by the feelings I've been getting real good at repressing
Wait
be like black in my zone
Now when it comes to parts of the body
I got more (??)
In the middle of fashion I got to keep it like rockin'
ejaculated
Did it by myself, no help like I masturbated
They say I’m soft, well, fuck
I’ll get castrated
Sell my balls to one of you
Haters who can’t make
infected by devils
My father would come home, he would forget about the killings
He wasn't scared of the Shogun, but the shogun was scared of him
Maybe
trying to wake you up
At your wake motherfucker
Black mass, black gloves, duct tape, AK
We always do it big around here baby ba-by!
That's dem Miami boyz
opinions but holding laryngitis
See I don’t hear ‘em, I’m a winner by law
Track em down like the subway
When they sub par
Sub-zero everytime I jump in
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