Lyrics:
Syndrome is a fear
That inner-city residents have of they own peers
People in they own community
Usin' a case where two blacks got smoked by one in '93
that, everything went black
Baby, one-two-three, tell 'em get the referee
Cause he can
(he can) get the knockout (get the knockout)
Get the telephone
Wayne
Everybody else is whack
Then she threw that ass back, back, back
Then I fell to the mat
And after that everything went black!
Baby 1, 2, 3 tell 'em
everywhere watchin the show)
(Mi come to rock ya whether you're black or you're white)
(People from everywhere watchin the show)
(You're intrigued by
Two-Tecs to take over this projects
They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs
And when he start to bust he like to ask, "Who's next?"
I got my honey
on one, two punch, crush you amateurs,
Box and watch me execute like (cockins?),
My flow piping hot scorchin', proceed with caution murder any mc,
Ya
grip inside. Every organ grinding
Every day seems easier until I step back in our box. Boxed in
Surrounded by life, while suffocating inside a poor
PARIS Fashion has a new odd couple:
Bernard Arnault and Kanye West
The luxury titan turned out Saturday
Night for an impromptu concert
By West in
the Dude, Kurupt, 2
And James Brown with his fist crossed
I fluctuate the vocals like Prince Rogers
Whoever thought a billionaire come
Out of Compton?
everybody's talking
In the T with my g
Taking turns with a portion
I'm black an' a white rapper
Morrisson an' Jordan jaykae an' Aitch
I can't shop by myself
to
Inner cities the rich won't move to
The nice parts, they well-protected by a vanguard
The opposite of how these concentration camps are
Low-income
Territory
For an ax, Scissors cloth cows, Two seed
Sacks, To keep, Colonies
Occupied, By, Europeans
As Dutch VOC, Hired hitmen, Japanese
To assassinate,
of Christ are down-trodden with scorn
In the dark, odiferous earth
We embrace like two lovers at death
A monument to the trapping of breath
And begin illustrious duration
Glisten for me precious seasons
You give freedom to my words
On hands and knees I beg
Release me from perpetual scorn
Two legs to some, eight to others
Fear is polymorphic
The sky is blue no more
All that was frozen has thawed
Enveloped by the absence of light
attest chances
Burning bruised and bandaged
Toting tools but famished
Black yakuza branded
By the fool we handed
Turning moods to millions
Turn on me I
SHUTZSTAFFEL II
Lyrics and melody by Necrothorn
In the twilight's embrace, a shadow unfolds
Where devils in darkness merge with souls so cold
Behold
and form it
You an informant
As in you know about me
You informing the people
You scorn it
Aren't you bored yet?
To get that clout all these fakers
homie
My style like Mandela meets Monster Kody
Cop backwoods by the box bro, OG only
Drop 460 for a zip, need 2 to be cozy
I hate to stunt but look me up
like queen killer, rhapsody bohemian queen
But queen like white glove wave hand
And not wave hand like it's a heat wave
So you make a fan by waving
this
Two inna morning we getting it like this
I got my Shades on
Red cup
Got the Black t-shirt grey jeans wit the cuffs
The police better not fuck wit us
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that bitch tell on me, I'ma do a fuckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
tryna' find their melanin
I ain't thinking smart
Inside the box is where I start
Inside the box is where I'll end
Cause' I can't fucking comprehend
These
on Pirellis
Crunch amp, Baaaaang
Makaveli
Carbon fiber my speaker box
Two fifteens make my neighbors hot
Liquor spilled on the floor brother no worries
Black
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