Lyrics:
catalog
Writin' rhymes in my captain's log, BlackStar date
MC's fake like Egyptian Gods in 'Stargate'
Lovin' the hate, bubble all types of weight in they
my best Freind now your just a dead end
The key hope is to hide and never fast forward
The last 7 minutes ain't a golden gate passport
X2 female
of buried chains, a hateful shadow strains
hate in their eyes
hate their souls
hate, in their minds
buried machines… X2
the opressor die by his sword ,
THE COUNTRY WAS FOUNDED ON THE PRINCIPLE THAT THE PRIMARY ROLE OF THE GOVERNMENT IS TO PROTECT PROPERTY FROM THE MAJORITY
AND SO IT REMAINS
1, 2
Get me out of my head, I don't wanna think about a dead end
I'm so scared of all your feelings Fading away with every day
Little by little, you're
My cup don't ever spill
Hell is you talking bout boy
By all means Ima get it
(By all means)
Count through a check in a minute
(Count a whole
givin' me headaches
Only through speech can we let go of all this dead weight
Even though I'm angry, don't wanna be disrespectful
Tryna figure out
waist
Hate to kill a nigga, why?
Cause my nigga style he's got that killa, what?
What do you mean killa?
I mean that bee
Those ganja trees
Those
dead
And I'm known to pull steel
Trigs and kill pigs i run with ill kids and
Real nigs who peel wigs
My rap's steady slammin
I keep a heavy cannon
It's
Destination Paradise, point the nose ahead,
Piercing cries and screaming, They'll join me when I'm dead
Consumed by hate, my melting skin reveals
Roy
Don't it hurt to be unreal
Don't it hate to be outdone
I won't stand to be number two
Cuz bitch, I'm the only one
All I got is villains on my
a volatile situation
I'd hate to make enemies of loved ones
How long can this go on?
Grinding my teeth all day
Just gotta get away
Even just a 30 minute
(Mr.Cheeks)
Yo we come through like balls, see us niggas takin two pulls and pass
Nigga watch your back once you talk out your ass
I pack a .380 in
minutes in heaven
I'm packing with a mac eleven
I don't flex out
Aint the best wow
Got the best loud
Bitch I Serve a dead crowd shit
Off the meds again
Cos
Little nigga in a 2-Door six
Show my ass as you can see, no shit
I'm talking straight off the showroom shit
When you're talking about weight
I'm
(Verse 1)
In the quiet of the night, I'm lying still,
Wrapped in shadows, bound by my own will.
Thoughts are heavy, like a storm inside my mind,
your dead by manana
Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
Medina is
All of you little cowards get devoured, I'm givin' out flowers to anyone
I ain't been out the house in a minute 'cause I ain't wit' it if the money is
changer
Take her thoughts make her start they insane anger
Then they can march, hate can spark, names danger
You gotta be fine to get in my chamber
Touch ya soul, make ya whole, the same for you and I
There's not a minute that goes by that I don't believe
we can fly but I can feel it in the wind
I was 17 ridin in that Lexus on 20's
18 and 19 payin nothing over 20
And a thousand 8 grams divided by 4 is 2-52
If you know what that mean you
the trenches with the four eight
Still sleepin' with the toolie by the doorway
They like "where you been Young? Shit was bad for a minute"
All them clown
gonna marry you
If we're both still single by, like, thirty-two
And I bet that's gonna end up bein' true
'Cause I hate, like, everyone except for you
in a mess
Send you to the grave with the rest
I don’t lift weights I bench press the 38
Throw a stray have you waiting
By them pearly gates
Man
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