Lyrics:
The streets is mad right now (tell em' why we mad!)
Rappers whatever you call yourselves pack your bags and get outta town
'Cause I'ma strike down
to the microphone.
I say hey man!
There's only one way!
One God, one body, one faith alone.
If you don't know,
Then ya need to be told!
Steppin' right up
will be forgiveness and a great reward in paradise
So perhaps you, Muhammad, may wish to disregard a part of what is revealed to you, and your heart
swear by my
Six Swan Guillotine
I know faceless demons hide
Pale blue skin and skinny eyes
I swear I saw you die last night
I shouldn't be alive
Verse 1 - Sycosis
May all your life be a blessing to you
Know your value they will doubt you
Is what I'm stressing to you
May all your goals be set
counting up what we're owed or not, won't bring you peace
cnd may the groove be in your heart
May the moon illuminate
cnd by the lights that line your dark
mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking just cant be real
I dont need a record deal, I need
else to say so I may as well
Fly away (fly away)
I know you wanna see me down but we ain't gon'
Die today (die today)
'Cause I done been to the top
're all broke down
May the spirit of good brethren, turn you around
And may the devil's evil eye, pass you right by
Don't you look back my friend
'em out
Can you hear the bells?, I hear bells, can you hear the bells?
We hear the bells, yo the B the O the B the B the Y
The D the I the G the I
Brook-lawn pack those things, crack/cocaine
If you got ladies (Spit That G)
If you got endo (Spit That G)
If you got currency (Spit That G)
W.T.C. (Spit
of lightning when you fly the right kite
Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes
We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose?
When I choose the grip, one
don't got a type
I may have heard you wrong
I may have heard you right
I don't mind at all
No I do not mind at all
You may be different, that I like
And I
only been mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking just cant be real
I dont need a record
not a game
The steel cold if I unload the pistol
May His soul be witchu
I know BARS who you wanna be Ars'
That's why you stole those initials
Fuck who
through the air in pantyhose
He may be very sexy, or even cute
But he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit"
I said, "You need a man who has got
sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking just cant be real
I don't need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels
I roll right up in the hood
somethin' make sure you hear it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin'
Our music keeps you movin' what are you provin'?
You know that I'm two
of lightning when you fly the right kite
Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes
We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose?
When I choose the grip, one
welcome you)
To my heart (my future my heart)
Please don't go away from me
We can work it out
Whatever it may be girl
Please don't go (no, no, no, no,
(See that)
Bitch you can call me what you want, 'cuz I'll Be Dat (Be Dat)
Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels
Long as the condo's paid
the blessings of Allah
Never will you be able to count them
Indeed, man is certainly an extreme wrongdoer
A disbeliever in that he denies Allah's blessings
By
in the family room
lettin' the bass boom
you smilin' right now
but you'll be washin' your face soon
I want somebody now
to come lay down with me
What did you care?
etc. etc.
*
Anything and everything can be so easily institutionalised,
A poor parody of itself. Itself contained by itself.
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