Lyrics:
they're taking toll
If you've been bad, Lord, I bet you have
And you've not been hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better
Ermstar on the Track
Up in the morning by 6
Not on the gram scrolling through pics
But I’m busy writing my album
Makin original shit like Netflix
Big Daddy Kane catch a vibe/
I was raised by the Rap Gods/ raised by the rap gods
I was Raised by the Rap Gods/ raised by the rap gods
Prodigy, Guru,
So part the seas and paint them red
Cure disease and raise the dead
Wash our feet and break your bread Jesus died so we could live
I don't need
that's nice, its holographic
I'm working in the shade
So, I guess it looks like magic
And if I made an album
I just hope it'd be a classic
Life goes up
an album, now I put another need to rest
You said I miss you, let's get together
But you missed all of your chances to stay by my side
And when I go and pop
as the flames run through this town
and by the time you feel the pain
i'll be miles away
sing it like you mean it
(nobody's got the cure)
hit me with your best
The roadhouse is full
The whores have sore bones
Lost where you grew up
Crack houses are homes
Nationalism
Take a hit and light the fuse
Lonelier now
to the core, yeah
Yeah, I broke it off, when I found out she was a whore, yeah
C-C-Cure me*
I ain't never changed (Never in my life)
Yeah, I keep switchblades,
For your eyes, do you understand?
For your eyes
You probably grown now so this song'll hit you
If you're hearing this, unfortunately means that I'm
slip away
One taste of you got me trippin'
One more hit of you baby is heaven
I usually don’t let people in mmm
But for you I’ll make an acception
I see
seem to get up
Ain't no drug can cure this pain
been hit by a train called love
Tell by your eyes you can understand
tell by your lips you care
we can
And blood in his eyes
And he's looking at you, kid
As he races on by
So watch out for his hooves
They're going to kill you for sure
He's got some kind
cannot remember his own last name
And when he got sober he just did it again
It was destiny he said as he got hit by a train
Chanel had a thing for
In West Africa, a man's eyes became very bad
For three months he laid in a hospital bed
No meds could cure the pain that he had
Til the night that he
please take me out
Help Me Now (Oooo)
And no one knew
What to do
When the problem was me
And the cure was you
Im hanging on
By a thread
And its breaking Im
niggaz and by the way all my niggaz move boulders
Like Barney rubble any trouble free muffle the gat
I'm young and black with a chip on my shoulder
Its
Yeah, hit me with the snares, Fresh
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, just the snares, Fresh
Ch-ch-ch-ch, I like the snares, Fresh
Ch-ch-ch-ch
Yeah, I'ma ride
were fuckin' with some pros
I took a hit of the dro since then I've been a feind for the dope
I've been playin these shows in front of hella hoes
But I
the cure for sickness
Got the ill hardware guaranteed to take away your pain
One hit bwah you addicted
Pure uncut straight from the muddafukn source kid
the free-throw line and bang
Now, I bust and crush tracks, nothin' really changed
Except, twelve-inch scars on my body
What I mean by that, I was hit by some
feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
We done turned to a bygone don crew
We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
A lifetime criminal, live by
Dozens of years for music we've paid
Records on discs could bring tangible profit
Under protection of labels were made
Best compilations of hits for
Yes I record in the dark if you beefin with me
Then let's go to the park
I'ma go and show you my spark
I'm just trying to hit the charts with a dart
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