Lyrics:
That's why this project is so personal to me
Because it's really about my walk with God
Autonomous of systemic organized religion
And by not just reading
again,
In and then out, ooooh, bop!
"Hi! Welcome to another foul evening with the Divine Miss M!
"After many a summer dies the swan,"
But not when
selected with the highest scrutiny
I play Mr. Christian and just take mutiny
Cause this is my destiny, a lotta brothers keep testin me
But you haven't
about whether somebody like you, or Not
You best be making sure they're doing right by you
You understand what I'm saying? Yes, sir
Then get the hell out
ramblers, and the early birds
Best believe they coming, all they need is the word
Where the fire at, and they gone crowd your world
Especially if you got big
the projects
I invested in your body 'cause you wasn't moving toxic
And this is coming from the heart don't judge me
Yeah, don't judge me (ooh, ooh, ooh)
over green paper
Some of the best lose Everyday a rat race, hand me that test tube
Life is a science project and Death is the refuge
Nobody loves me,
grown up Santa Clause
And Pat Robertson needs to flush
Keep your white hood I look best in red
Let me be your wicked witch of the West
You can keep your
I've been waitin' for retaliation
For a long time i made it out the hole
By havin' a strong mind
You can lock my body but
Can't chain my brain
Bullet
again,
In and then out, ooooh, bop!
"Hi! Welcome to another foul evening with the Divine Miss M!
"After many a summer dies the swan,"
But not when
could make a young lady scream
By makin' musical sounds with my mounth(listen)
So I tried it at a party
And people didn't know it was me
And when
A yo let me start by saying (say what?)
I'm Sean Price motherfucker I ain't playing
(say what?) you heard me
Catch me in Brownsville projects
from nothing now i'm workin on projects
Been a long road on the mic making progress
I'm tryna make it out i don't want no stress
Wanna be the best in
shit
Found his body, in the projects, naked
I ain't gonna lie, If I wasn't doing this now
I'd probably'd be tied down, in a small town
With my eyes
with the same peace
Regret it if I let down
But shit you gotta change speed
Bent I'ma slizzide, fresher than an AC
So death by my sizzide
Why I gotta
at the light
I'm doing my own thing
Tryna rearrange
Project hate when they see a man wanna change
Doing it over and over and over again
Balance gone in
So defiled.
Soul deprived.
We are fed these traits by our makers hands.
We project the pain that we cannot stand.
A horrid soul, a burning dove.
The Show" was Doug Fresh, the Bronx was at they best
While Rockmaster Scott blew up the live request
Spraypaint was toxic, Shinehead was with the rosters
Days
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