Music Video

Devil Music
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Pharcyde
The Pharcyde
Performer
Bootie Brown
Bootie Brown
Vocals
Fatlip
Fatlip
Vocals
Mwalk
Mwalk
Scratches
Slimkid3
Slimkid3
Vocals
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Corey Woods
Corey Woods
Songwriter
Emandu Wilcox
Emandu Wilcox
Songwriter
Derrick Stewart
Derrick Stewart
Songwriter
Clifford Smith
Clifford Smith
Songwriter
Romye Robinson
Romye Robinson
Songwriter
Russell Jones
Russell Jones
Songwriter
Jason Hunter
Jason Hunter
Songwriter
Lamont Jody Hawkins
Lamont Jody Hawkins
Songwriter
T. Hardson
T. Hardson
Songwriter
Gary Grice
Gary Grice
Songwriter
Robert Diggs
Robert Diggs
Songwriter
Dennis Coles
Dennis Coles
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Anthony Walker
Anthony Walker
Recording Engineer
Bryan Davis
Bryan Davis
Recording Engineer
Fatlip
Fatlip
Producer
Gary Wallis
Gary Wallis
Recording Engineer
James Mansfield
James Mansfield
Recording Engineer
Paul Arnold
Paul Arnold
Mixing Engineer
Rick Clifford
Rick Clifford
Recording Engineer
Tim Latham
Tim Latham
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

(Slim Kid3) The way that momma raised us was pure faith So diablo wouldn't faze us or daze us Or lay us down to sleep Know the wolf from the sheep Or the sheep who cried wolf And threw the deadly hoof While the wolf was asleep I keep my mind a ghost Follow my heart the most Don't play fools too close Sleep with my eyes at post So Diablo won't be hostin the game of life The knife sits by throats of the young And blows death straight through the lungs As the mind gets washed by visions of sugar plums But we shall overcome cause we ain't dumb But we ain't smart, they got the girls by the hearts And the niggaz by the nuts Ear, tongue and butts Yeah, they're trying to fuck us up But, shit, you know what's up We gotta get with the movement And move men soon They consume every womb who bares Beneath the stairs of their doom Best believe they're gonna shove em in a tomb Chorus: repeat 4X Cause Everytime I step to the microphone I put my soul on 2" reels That I don't even own (Bootie Brown) Early Saturday mornin I was cartoon gazin Slowly broke into the kitchen To fill a bowl with some Raisin Bran As I ran up and down the TV stations I witnessed Indian Joe Getting tricked out of this nation By a silly hillbilly Who laughed as the shit happened Everything's the same The game continued into rappin Deception is at an all-time high You give a piece of your soul To receive some crumbs from the pie But you know I keep on rappin til the break of dawn Even though it is my soul that I do not even own Chorus: repeat 4X (FatLip) I was po', nlack and broke Beyond a shadow of a doubt Ass-out, wide open waitin for my shit to come on out Speakin about the time before I got signed I was coolin behind Coolio in the County Line My big brother used to say I was an asshole Didn't graduate, couldn't handle the hassle Of high school, why fool Wit' foolish rules and guidelines Fuck the cap and tassels Said forget the trade and tried rhymes Hooked up with J-Swift, got with 2-4-2 Me and my nigga L.A. Jay back at S.C.U. I grab the MIC one-time Check it, 1-2, we in Freakin' major flavors with my fellow Nubians Takin shit to the next level Too bad I sold my soul to the fuckin devil
Writer(s): Trevant Vant Hardson, Gary E. Grice, Emandu Wilcox, Derrick L. Stewart, Romye Robinson, Jason S. Hunter, Lamont Hawkins, Corey Woods, Dennis David Coles, Russell T. Jones, Clifford Smith, Robert F. Diggs Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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