Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #3,220
Peak in subgenre #1,739
Author
Clayton Rosa
Uploaded
November 24, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.9 MB • 128 kbps • 4:16
Lyrics
i ascend nothing, to then fuck em
the ends something, defend nothing
i been cuffing, been hustling studies have
been nothing to study, he's in something
he's gutter, the gutter knows mothers
have sewn rubbers on both covers
for fathers who know daughters
my soul started to fold, falling,
im all in. stop .. nah ..
just might be okay,
to see how he might be okay, to be okay
the ceo play, to feed okay
to a bay bay, and defeat old ways ..
the hero raised, feeble rays
to steal ol base, in carlitos way
to steer ol fate, into the hands of stanzas
hand me answers. im the shit,
hand me pampers. yes im the von p
of boston to compete, put the morgue in
in tanya morgan, calm ya nerves then
fondle verbs and action, to call on words and
the most common first and, common courtesy
flowin with the flyest of garments that
calm disturbing psalms and the classic common
is to be, yes to me. the less that he
has unquestionably, fed to me means
that dreams have led to mean,
he's higher than amphetamines ..and flows
with greater means, souls have sewn themselves
into me, cells seldom seen the american dream
the american dream, the american dreams
yes yes the americans seen, forces
of torture that have forced the posture
to lean, to the fostering of fiends.
the great american dream profits off prophets
and yes, the prophet now has the profits now,
whos suffering, whos hustling who
customers do customs in, to questioning,
customs when, cussing the regime has
the regime on scene, the great american dream
has seen the faintest of heart, painting the parts
painting the picture, painting the arts
its paining me to paint it all,
the paints have devolved, into spray cans
of patience, the patient has fallen
cases for calling has negated the scholars
so yes, the poorest of sectors elevated to ballin,
wading in waters .. waiting to installing
the russian mobsters in Stalin ..
whats ya calling, whats ya call then .
ref, check the ball in ..
appalling parliaments smoke newports on two ports
and drown down two quarts of liquor,
to pick up the tools and kick up, rhymes
get up you fools, its pick up time.
its pick up time, its pick up time.
pick up yours, ive already picked up mines. ha.
this is what ive seen, and what ive seen
is like a man with one eye dreams
to see twice, but his one eye sees
the world, into what i freeze
and what i bleed, is blood but i see
is ink, the painters easel think
the ancients have sent in saints
to paint the pictures, and he's idolizing
du bois, not the boys on the block
du bois, the first black phd
to the back then, to the he hate me
get ya money back, the rebates three
times as much, ya time is up.
the diamonds rough, he's brutal
sipping brugal, the fools now foaming at the mouth son
i doubt some, have found out that the routes none.
and although the balboa scenic root
seems as though, he's seen it,
he's greater than a star, he's the zenith.
yes yes, the moves have changed. the movements changed
and even though he's grown up, the dude is praying
for who is slain,
hoping the fuse is lit, while the music diffuses it
yes, the views is his, and yes, you viewing him
like you and him, are not the same. there's two in him
two sides, still the truths in him
inducing him is like knowing the pseudonym
knowing judo in a jetli flick ready to voodoo him
gangstarrs get their guru in,
and who do win, depends on whos pens warm
the difference is, how differences have since then
sent in the tenth man to mismaneuver under him
no wonder then he's risen
to be living, leaves in fall have seen victims
and jesus, i hope he's with em.
for suckas that havent seen, how having heaven seems
as though hell is that slow,
ive learned the lessons, losing time
and learned the message, so i jot notes
of those before
that rose before,
roll out the carpet .. here he comes, here he comes
the one that shines as every sun,
clear em out an
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