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roll

Rollin down the streets you might get jacked
By another brother ... why is that?
Critics always puttin' the blame on the gangs of society
It
"critics."
They are offended by the outright
Antics of the
Maddened.
They prefer their poesy to be
Secretive
Soft and
Nearly
Indecipherable.
Their game has
shit that a critic would til we visit his hood
Break his limbs chop him down, split his wood
Time out, get him out the game anyway
Fuck what anybody say,
world
I declare my independence 
From the critics and their stones
I can find my revolution
I can learn to stand alone

[Chorus x3]
critic
For now, wink with that eye brow, black cow
Faking surpise because you came with two tough guys
Seems like trapping this trick would be a dream
they trying to get wit it
Crack the back of all critics in a New York minute
You ain't seeing me, my dome is tinted
Return, the dues that you never
Was killing to get in it, 

so I choose to peep the G right after we done did it 

I'm telling you this because I'm the sweet pussy critic 

I
you in it for the cash admit it 

'cause I did it, and never gave a fuck for rap critics 

realize Corleone style, I know some niggas desperate
It's a no critic car
So there's no one to win over be your own superstar
When the voting is over and
We're alright, baby we're alright..baby we're
world
I declare my independence 
From the critics and their stones
I can find my revolution
I can learn to stand alone

[Chorus x3]
world
I declare my independence 
From the critics and their stones
I can find my revolution
I can learn to stand alone

[Chorus: x 3]
to their own opinions
'Cause everyone's a critic, and even on your best days 
Someone's got something bad to say
Yet I ignore the things I hear, ignore
Buildings I'm going all the way forget what
The critics say its all about them royalties
If you don't like it then suck on these!

I said I'm back in
and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
hard

Freddie's demographic grows, 
Angry boys in baggy clothes 
As critics eulogize the songs, 
And record store clerks mourn along 
And the years
skill and writin' abilities
Magnify all my talents and circular quality
Music for chicks who like it simple
And still think for critics on the streets
Mother don't fret I won't fall on my face
Mother don't fret I won't be a disgrace
Don't wanna hear the critics tell me to stop
Obliterate incinerate
writers write all night, 10,000 words of truth, then they drink themselves to death upon finding it. Sometimes I write all night,10,000 critics come. And if
Raise your right arm for an excuse. 
Wiggle fingers. 
Raise your left for complaints as a critic or nay-sayer. 
If this is good, don't forget your
the game
New label, new crew
You critics be hatin'
You haters be talkin'
You talkers be walkin'
You groupies be stalkin'
The heavens, the earth
The devils,
the truth, deal with it
But you complain everytime I'm real with it
I'm bout to kill critics, and then take 'em to war
And teach 'em how to put their love
but the critics won't understand
It's just a lonely day.
to impuning progress
Judicial officials are made to egress
Our critics are given the axe
The needs of many outweigh the few
Profficide required for us
for criticism everytime I spit it
But who the fuck died and made you the head critic
Be the ones with no talent whinin how
Always got somethin

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