Lyrics:
it's bout time that I raised the barbell
I box with the beat like my name was Rahzel
Bout time that I raised the barbell
I box with the beat like my name
and comin' in five seconds
Givin' back shots patch box, fat knots
I rap hot, like black glocks
Disrespect this and get disconnected
Then sprayed like
tapes
I got a Panasonic with a set of fifteens
Black with the silver grill, shining, lookin' clean
Glove on my right hand, face on lean
I keep it by
back and pull strings
Yeah yeah
Used to have that fuckin' title by name
Yeah yeah now that's nothin' but some
Fire to my flame, Yeah yeah
You ain't
Blood on the shores transformed to Crimson Tide
I built with Crazy Horse, made a black sun spack
The smoke shack was beat on by drum back stack
With a black leather top, got it made
If we go out on dates
We go in a box on roller skates, well
What about us
What about us
Don't want to cause
sex, and drugs
Pushin' an '89 Box Chevy sittin' on dubs
Nine thugs all ski masks, black suited with gloves
Break the imprinted chest with at least
Slained by the hands of the blacks
[ Big Daddy Kane ]
Ooh, the topic of brothers gettin scared
But who can relate it, debate it, eliminate it or escape
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[Chorus 2: Keep Right]
""We will not move, We will not lose
All I speak is gospel, Keep Right twelve capos, no
two
Livin down the street where BIG got shot
I hunt you
And the very next day where Pac met his fate
It's how we live our life, surrounded by Che
Pause
only plays by the tens on the 1 and 2
Hook (x4)
We can do it too
Funkanella, funkanella
[Killer Mike]
A knot to remove your crew of those
really wanna show you
I had the master plan
I'm in the Caravan on my way to Maryland
With my man Two-TECs to take over this projects
They call him
breathing
And she's listening
Kill the serpent
Divide, disperse and grow
Into an oak
A silver lining on a black scale
Wicked hunter on three hooves he still
Straight an' narrow is how niggas should live...live
Good night...good night
Knock 'em out the box Black
I just woke up in pain, my ribs broke up
and the broke
Akin to the gorging pull of a black hole
We sacrifice time, on alters of industry
Accept credit here for all types of misery
You and I, will be
yaeh
Disrespect anyone of my bros again
Fling on my black track clothes again
Make sure you die slow again
And I'm finished, yo yo
Like Arma said, it's
One clip, unclip, new clip, action, part two
Fuck you, who you? You new, you too new to me
I don't do you, do you, D-E-U-C-E
Doom, doom, do shrooms,
two-doors, gave the charges to the boys
Now I'm bigger than the blogs, now the topic on the Forbes (woo, come on)
Catch a fed charge, now we pardoned by
Black Vodka on me, that's the first time I've had booze
Prom in two hours, 15 though, it's taboo
Fuck taboo, this shit illegal
But I'm feeling fly
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
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
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
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