Lyrics:
Listen, I'm no poet, I'll show it by the words that I write
Holy inspiration, respect for the creation in spite
Sometimes it takes hours to write
the Extra Abstract
Grinding on nouns, hittin verbs from the back
It's like that, that's the only way it'll be
So if it gets said nigga, it got to be by me
[Music & Lyrics by Suidakra]
See the winter is coming
Falling leaves dance to a silent tune
I'll take their hands I'll make them stand
When they're
it, map it, we can score
it, I need three guns, and a soldier to stand
by the door wit. No bullshit, I loaded up my
lyrics and two shotties
to be by me
I represent V-A well, peace to the Cella Dwell
Washing-tons of rappers up, like my first name was Denzel
Who wanna come test and attempt
and my lyrics the vocal cord
You's a fisher price king only eligible to battle
Saddle ????
Who are you to hassle, the epidemy of master tackle
Buck
of life
Anythin but that mean you don't give a fuck about your's
Until ya door's kicked in by Mac-eleven machine men
Army green men but not the ones
Like a rain check hustler, scoping the aisles
Shocking lyrics making beats just to keep it on file
With the ADAT Zip on the floppy I'm never coming
and shoulders
I swear, cause these lyrics comin sharp like shear
So put my name up in your mouth, I double-dare you, yeah
[ CHORUS: J. Sands ]
Yeah, some MC's
underground
Yeah right by the water, can't do right by ya daughter (no)
But look at all the shit that I done bought her (hmm?)
See lyrics ain't nothin' if
describe it?
His uniqueness, and his, his, he gon' have you flashy and lookin' good, you know
And then Conway's gon' come with the type of lyrics that's,
indeed concede
'Cause I hit you with my flow
The wild rhino stampede
I'm not just wild, I'm trained, domesticated
I was raised by a rapper and rhino
all that ass kissin'
Before my lyrics burn a hole in your neck, that's what I'm wishing
I'm tapping spines along with your mind
Cause I made you feel
Verse One: Tash
I knew this nigga by the name of Captain Hook
Who had a record deal but no lyrics in his book
But everywhere you looked
preparation and lots of pull
Delight
Profound lyrics spit into mics
Irresistible to bite on stage
The instrumental incites the freestyle
Fake MC's bust
metaphors and lyrics
Speakin to dead poets by conjuring up they spirits
From Shakespeare to Edgar Allen
Yo, the whole Dead Poets Society couldn't mess
Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage
Fuck them long interviews, just give us the front page
Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust
Them lyrics
through the microphone
Chrome dipped lyrics are known to split stone
You private eyes hone in
But can't seem to clone
(I wake you up and as I stare
a minute to breathe
And put the mic in check
I got some love for real
But ain't no disrespect
But on the cool, I be flippin
Followed by some gangsta ass
all around
By the time I'm done you'll be $2.99 a pound
[Verse Two:] Tim Dog
Coming from the butcher shop
Fuck with KRS and the Dog and get
(Tim Wilson/Dean Daugherty)
Timothy Wilson Music (BMI)/Admin. by Copyright International/Lowery Music (BMI)
Tim Wilson lyrics
Ricky Tidwell was
off by sprayin' beer in your face
So the '94 to them, I'm for my niggas that remember
Means I'm steppin' to the mic with lyrics colder than December
has broken out the heavy artillery
(I got artillery
Keep aware
I got artillery
Lyrics are ammo
You ready?
I'm always prepared for warfare
Get ready
clip
Niggas is small, my task is educate y'all
Can you stop selling crack cause
Negro that takes balls
I'm on that road called freedom
Seldom traveled by
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