Lyrics:
inclined
If rap was made by (?) then redeemed because
You ain't got no ice cream
So take a seat in the rear
Don't dare to compare, cause I swear, you
Okay last time, this is drugs
This is your brain on drugs
Any questions?
Welcome home George Young (RIP McBride)
The real Boston George
It's that
they're trying to do with radio, with this, uh, McCarron-Walter
Act and a lot of other ways, is start by saying that they're
protecting the public from
degrees
MC's, enemies get hung from trees
Brutalities, based on the adversary
I gets amped for my camp in my station
When I release frustration you'll
stitched up by my wife
Who am I?
It's suffice to say found gold in my heart
Put the ice away
Nicer day, live foul homie it's a price to pay
Even when it's
demonstrating
Pay for her
But I'm never paying
The favorite
MC with a different cadence
I've been in my zone
Plz leave me alone
Good kid with a chrome heart
My
I set if off
By lettin' you know that I can flow to many beats
Similar to fluid, so freely
And you can say I'm gettin' kind of greedy, but so
I set if off
By lettin' you know that I can flow to many beats
Similar to fluid, so freely
And you can say I'm gettin' kind of greedy, but so
They ice is on lease
They clothes bought on credit
They beats were from me
They ain't write it
They just said it
Daily routine
Of these fake MC's
You
surrounded by peace
It's kinda sorta somethin soothing
Fuck the negativity that you droolin outcha mouth like the newsmen
From the speculation that I'm viewing
The perfect end
Hail, ice, fire
Darkened clouds obscure the sun
Brace yourselves
It is coming
Hear me
Gather round by the storm
Feel it growing inside
Let
and
MC Craig G and, Just I-C-E and
The list goes on and on and on and on
I go to Dapper Dan or Bennetton
Hey hey, I got some shout outs, I know you
like a drive-by
We could stack dough sky-high
Niggaz can't touch what they can't feel real recognize real
Crew love, Roc-A-Fella till we die
As long
[M.C. Ren]
Well it be the real niggaz back
With that hard street shit
Bitch niggaz be pissin a fit
But I say fuck 'em, when I buck 'em
Its that nigga
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)
Now Arnold Jones an' MaryBeth Jensen's in a 'Vette down by the Deep Rock
Had John Denver on the 8-track,
Its the shamrock suburban
Hand cooked kiss the codeine curtain
What I spent last week with the ice on my T
Champagne Diamonds looks like ice tea
(Chorus)
Kweli next to be up, so I suggest you re-up
Or freeze up like you hear a shot
Now I can trace the tracks of all the teardrops
Of every single MC in
my trilogy
You know that i got the recipe
I make sucka mcs Rest In Peace
I am in this trap for real
Used to move a little budha
Then I become
busters who can't deal, give it up for real
(MC Ren)
Now when you see me, you're ducking and slipping, yo, then you fell
down
You fucked up and finally
Take me to wonderland
Take me to wonderland
My quiet place
Where things go by
And we can stay
Take me to wonderland
Take me to wonderland
Where ice is
Yeah
The Fat Gangsta
Here comes the nigga from the East
Who just been crowned for most hated by police
The public enemy rapper at large
you're leaving
I'll cry and take you by the hand
My peace, my sun, my thunder and my lightning
I'll be the one to hold you through the night
I know
they actin standoffish
? by hand like canned raw crawfish
Can you please pass the cocktail sauce?
You might as well know, hell is hot as hell boss
young, but your mama know
I'm pit-fisious, never fake-tisious
In this, cause MC's so delicious...
(Chorus x2)
[Carlos Coy]
Like Mexican, get revenge
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