Lyrics:
my dealings and my feelings are controlled by the wheel in
the middle of my will, ILL
I fell
hell would have caught me but Christ came And Blood
serious? Your Mum)
I ain't answering anymore of your questions,
You know what? I have a question
Who's idea was it to get in the charts,
By rhyming
Two hundred loathsome cutthroats
Armed to the teeth
Hurling there grenades
As they get closer to the beach
We had cutlasses and blunderbusses
Off
Tura gots the loot with the K's on my check
I scrap with grenade, 'cause in the south niggas don't play
And every nigga that I know keep a chopper on K
I say go
Tura gots the loot with the K's on my check
I scrap with grenade, 'cause in the south niggas don't play
And every nigga that I know keep
the sound
Going, going, going
How long can someplace last that's dominated by
F-15s, M-16s grenades and 45s?
People hate and can't relate to ourselves
Now I'm sweating cause you're sweating me big time.
Hang me up by a rope for my murder rhyme.
No shorts given, that's how I'm living in the 91.
Slide my
found salvation
But the hand grenades inside her
Where ready to explode
And the pins were pulled long ago
By sweet temptation
She found herself in
we don't trouble you
Tell your bitch and your friends respect that "W" too
y'all make me sick
Renegade chicks, strap a grenade to my dick
This shit
pull me out the club cuz I ain't know how to act
But I ain't really trippin'
We finna sneak through the back
And I got some like a grenade for them
And never try to see the penitentiary walls
I walk barefoot on the equator with the mental acumen of Bob Lazar
My frame can't be explored by y'all radar
My
like Iranians holdin' grenade pins
Blazin' your skin, stomp you with a whole parade of Timbs
Put a gemstar to your flesh pa, the emperor
Of demented
An assassinator
Up against the wall - it's Valentine's Day
The Massacre's about due for a replay
I'm about to explode - like a hand grenade
Evil E do damage
let the missiles rain on your parade
Cause my love is a soldier and my heart is a grenade
(kabloom!)
I'll bomb any platoon, just call me World War
to twerk I like to
Work I don't need indica
Or sativa I'll leave ya with
The dro like see ya
Later alligator I need pussy by my saber
Darth Vader got haters
legends
So i kill it the second i do a drop a acid
We only got the classics
But you know the status
I'm on another level bitch
By the looks sound and smell
Arditi
I light up the night,
The purifying fire of hand grenades
Becomes your defiler
Estimate of the enemy's intentions
By the way
We came for you
I feel like someone's watching me
Don't know where the enemy is
The night brings bad dreams to my mind
Maybe the girl that's by my side
Potential
The Last Poets - updated by Ethan]
I love niggas, because niggas are me. And I should only love that which is me. I love that you niggas go
fragments from my hand grenades
Toddlers trampled by the crowds
As through the hard my juggernaut plows
Kamakazi! Kamakazi! Crash & Burn!
Kamakazi! Kamakazi!
And plastic hand grenades
Had him marching up and down
Like he was on parade
Marti was a fightin' boy
His parents made it clear
Military college was his home
Maaaaaaan, I'll smack a cat with a bat that was used by Babe Ruth
Grenade serenade boombastic
[Clowd]
Who's baddest flew passed this metal detectors my tools
The fuck'll he do
When he finds out we're schemin' on Bugz?
[SixXx]
I'll get Jug to come see you tomorrow with bats grenades
And like all sorts of infa-red
Yes, I think you heard my right the first time
The truth is for the privileged, not me
For those who won't be wounded by the knowing
For those
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