Lyrics:
to come back like Bronx rap
Storm like the Redcoats through anything in my path
First, you shining like sterling, then you broke like brick in Berlin
to come back like Bronx rap
Storm like the Redcoats through anything in my path
First, you shining like sterling, then you broke like brick in Berlin
nobody bodied me
Don't accept my apology
Stop chasing props niggas, top niggas march
By the cops, followed hot blocks
They pop niggas i ain't one of you
the mass that
Hackensack, highway to holly for this cashmere
Satin pro, got the somali, rolls on my mind
In France I dance by the moon
Sailin' from
My Ireland, you are the river rush
Always fluid in flux in need of a little hush
My Ireland is talking to itself
But so busy listening to Joe
It's
of my mind
(Cause you can't knock the hustle)
Who do you think you are (Jay Z baby)
Baby one day you'll be a star
Last seen out of state where I drop my
check it)
And if you don't know, now you know (uh, come on)
You know very well (yeah)
Who you are (money, hoes and clothes)
Don't let 'em hold you
check it)
And if you don't know, now you know (uh, come on)
You know very well (yeah)
Who you are (money, hoes and clothes)
Don't let 'em hold you
Scorching your choir, torching your fortress
Endorsed by the morbid to enforce my desire
At war with my core, my score on the board is
More than all yours,
speedy, can you mc'feel me?
Banana midriff, so appealing
My head is in the clouds and
My feet are on the ceiling
The foundation is much uglier than
What it
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
specialize in misconstruin'
We wanna be at a presidential level, what are we doin'?
Foolin' ourselves, clownin' ourselves, playin' ourselves
By not bein'
specialize in misconstruin'
We wanna be at a presidential level, what are we doin'?
Foolin' ourselves, clownin' ourselves, playin' ourselves
By not bein'
program
Donald-D is who I am, damn
Atttempt to do this, boy, you're takin a risk
'Cause my voice sounds doper than a compact disc
Styles and lyrics,
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, as if I were their own son. Their two daughters, Yvette and Helen, are more like my younger sisters than cousins. When you are part
of
Hand held don't hold prints plus I burnt the tip of my fingers
I'm a Bronx gangsta nigga, double r's hoodrat
The nigga they come get quick bitch,
permeated
With the healing melody of an invisible choir
And I knew I had entered the domain of the living God
My eyes beheld a vast concourse of souls
Intro:
March. The more the merrier. Get a couple of whores to carry you to the burial. F-are-E-S-H. Fresh to death and keep it def to the left.
of
Hand held don't hold prints plus I burnt the tip of my fingers
I'm a Bronx gangsta nigga, double r's hoodrat
The nigga they come get quick bitch,
the house?
When you see me at awards or a popular place
I see chains shinin', I wanna stock it over my face
Coordinated, try to see me by some popular names
'til it's mince meat
Your mens been beat the minute I step onto your street
This is fight music
You know why my hands are so numb? (No)
'Cause my
another rapper by force when I send him off and birds are still disturbing my swerve out in Canary Wharf. Beeks and Fake Bloods beats what a scary thought
If you really want what your wishing
You'll get it
Your mine 44ever
Probably God inside this thing
Probably Choir singing
God is proud that you are
Something that we have not yet written.
Do you feel shame(ful)-
(full) of chaos?
Can there be darkness without a source of light?
A codependent relation
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