Lyrics:
born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort
kicking on her cervix
Twitching 'cause I'm nervous, though my intended purpose
Was to be born to reign, not in scorn or vain
But to take on a name, my
to worse keep this on the hush, uh
I know you seen me on the video (true)
I know you heard me on the radio (true)
But you still don't pay me no
It's summertime and the living is easy
The bees are jumping and the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich and your mama's good looking
Would you hush
Summertime
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
justified
All my betrayals when I listen to Morente
The alibi of my throat is rejected
The alibi of my gift is overthrown
With six impeccable threads of scorn
I might as well go against my own faith
So I follow the market
I sight the butcher boy by the gate
(You want goat?)
No I might a kill I queen
So small, oh, so small are we
By we, I mean all humanity
Endless universe out in front of me
Some say, earth?s a tiny obscurity
Maybe in size, but
body
Yes cll over
Her body smoother
Than some Olive oil
How we gon pop off we hotter than all of y'all
Who got the Timmy?
No turner yeh right by
body
Yes cll over
Her body smoother
Than some Olive oil
How we gon pop off we hotter than all of y'all
Who got the Timmy?
No turner yeh right by
Poseidon
Women watching wave in silence
Blinded by his inner diamond
Look around, try to find him
Wiling out while i am rhyming
Hush hush now
Only I make
to the top, taking the world of hip hop
By dropping the right words right where it's hot
Where are you now
Somewhere on your couch
Dancing by yourself
While
Tell Emma I’m home dry
That I’ll come by soon enough
And give her my love
Tell her my minds made up
Tell Emma I’m home dry
That I’ll come by soon enough
won't you hook a chew scorns, she tellin you buy
Street poetry is how ya boy get paid
And I wear no Escalade, metallic, black or beige
Yo when I walk up
to
Me by the shores of Isagumi
Why shouldn't it happen to us?
Oh the busy little hornet doesn't scorn it
To ignore it really is ridiculous
It's a ritual
born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
(O tidings of comfort and joy)
Jewry,
This blessed Babe was born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
(O tidings
now
Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted
Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now
I was housed by your warmth, thus transformed
By your
now
Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted
Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now
I was housed by your warmth, thus transformed
By your
the strangers eyes
And who are we to criticize or scorn the things that they do?
For we shall seek and we shall find Ammonia Avenue
If we call for the proof
By your grounded and giving and darkening scorn
Remember me, love, when I'm reborn
As the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn
Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little
said by the happer.
I whiles thought it scoff'd me to scorn,
Saying, ''Shame, is your conscience no chackit?''
But when I grew dry from a horn,
It
Hush now child, and don't you cry
Your folks might understand you, by and by
Just move on up
Towards your destination
You may find, from time
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