Song picture
I Am The Shepherd
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A track about how I shepherd wack emcees. Kind of big headed which isn’t usually my style but f*** it. My rhyme stile and vocab is deeper than usual. Props to Passion for the beat (www.soundclick.com/thepassionhifi)
uk hip hop uk rap hip hop
Artist picture
UK Hip Hop.
Kit aka Slim Pickin
Song Info
Charts
Peak #1,428
Peak in subgenre #774
Author
Kit
Rights
Northern Lights Entertainment
Uploaded
December 08, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.6 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
Mary had a little lamb; it’s fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go, I’m like a role model to everyone who hears my shit, My music is blasphemous and satanic to say the least, I’m just a lyricist with a skill that possesses my entire presence with, A blinding glow, I strike a mind blow to the forces of nature that complicate my rhyme flow, Like all these haters, who diss Dzasta because he rhymes low, Your mine, yo, it’s time to go, this is my show, Step off, your hard, I’m soft, you’re stale, and I’m not, My thoughts are the key, and your locked, I appear in the fog and get you robbed, Of any talent that you hold, or are dreaming of, And I don’t give a fuck, who you are, If your diamonds have diamonds or if you have a chauffeur driven car, Superstar, I’ll take that all away in less than a day, Who do you think you are? Mary had a little lamb; it’s fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go, Follow me; don’t be afraid, life is one big show, I am the Sheppard of this world, hold on and don’t let go, I’m elevating like elevators; no one’s greater, I’m the saviour of miss behaviour, Those are my followers who told you all how wack you was, Smacked you back, because you all bite like bad tarantulas, So listen, to my shit because if gives a sense of well being, Smoke until you’re higher than the ceiling, My meanings, in my tracks, tell a story, shape up and face facts, I’m in for fun your in for glory, faggot, What’s the matter? Can’t hack it? It’s Manic fm, It’s tragic; you can’t handle it, get a grip or grab on it, Tryin to tackle it will end up with you being spazmatic, Attacked in an attic, Hope you ain’t asthmatic, Because, I exhale dust thicker than a half brained spastic with arms like elastic, Bands, wrapped around these hands are a force field, Which will help me destroy any living man, you’re killed, Mary had a little lamb; it’s fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go, Follow me; don’t be afraid, life is one big show, I am the Sheppard of this world, hold on and don’t let go,
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