Lyrics:
haunted, with mean dreams
GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer
than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me
If they get me, dress my body in
haunted, with mean dreams
GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer
than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me
If they get me, dress my body in
faster
Than a lot of cops I can't be stopped 'til my head gets popped
A lot of fuckin' bodies will drop
It's a disaster, I'm coming for the blood
even bro's still so you can just
Poke me back, my flow's like magic
You know the fact that I'm no fanatic
My bonus tracks are more dope than half of your
Faster than Michael John'
Hit like Paul Manson
Stacking funds with bigger guns
My squad we hundred proof
Hauling ass on the loot
Compressed to stay true
stop with the body rock
See I've got heart like john starks
Hitting mad sparks
Pass me the mic
And I'll be rocking the whole park
I'm the m
culture
You know you're evil I want you to
Recognize that I'm a proud monkey
You vandalize my perception but can't
Take style from me
And this is more than
act
My niggas is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back
I'm swift with the mack, quicker than kung fu
With the reflexes of a cat and the speed
Live like 9-5, I rhyme and come alive
My grind divides fine through my divine eyes
It's prime time, you wish you could buy time, but it's my time
What happened to Jah’s child
Maynard James Keenan
He must be counting bodies like sheep
Outta raw dog reservoirs
By God you will not kill me in my home
you face down
Stompin bitch rappers like I'm straight outta A-Town
Runnin the playground like it was a track meet
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than
Def and Kweli
Zepplin, Onyx, Beck, and Chuck D
Feelin' of Bob Dylan, hints of John Lennon
Mixed with a bit of Pimp C and Bun B (Woah)
Marley in my heart
acts
It's a wrap pull the curtain, Long John be long gone
I pop shit and pop more bottles than Sean Don
I got chip, I'm just too ghetto like Banton
Mike
on
The homie Great John on the beat, by the way
Don't Come Outside, Volume 3 out now
(Great John on the beat, by the way)
I'ma fan Heavenly Father but
Got fake J's yeah that's for sure
Like your songs you're just a joke
After this you'll be a ghost
John, your music's trash
No thoughts man, that's
especially if she don't kiss and tell
It's more requirement than niggas think
That's why my shit didn't sink
They asked if I can carry it, I didn't blink
niggas out like cristal bottles, uh
When I battle, I'm breaking bentleys down to gravel
I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel
I'm bigger than
from Nordstrom
You'd want one of my toothbrush bristles if you could afford one
Each one's made of plutonium and signed by John Lennon
Tried to fuck your
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Yeah, when the out's hooked up with the refugees
It be more niggas than the NAACP
Comin' up on weed of all
more beef than a Islamic farm
So I pack enough sonic arms to neutralize atomic bombs
It's not a nigga in your gang want it
My AK slay gays, spray
inside of a ***RENTER***
With fat chicks arguing, Who's body is bigger?
I'ma get my smoke on, I'ma get my freak on
Rims get they poke on, here's some
with the Ice
Are you insane?
This shit is bigger than me
Be warned
It's the calm before the storm
And every fuckin thing I write
Is gonna be analyzed by
to the B (B) from the R (R)
From the J to the K (JK)
I'm back in the lab with Davis and AJ (Andy John!)
Said it's Lumberjack on the track
Making my comeback
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