Tekst Utworu

Yo, picture bloodbaths in elevator shafts Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft Check the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings Slow-moving MCs is waiting for the editing The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry Herbal vapors and biblical papers Smoking Exodus, every square yard is plush Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions, facial expression Leaves impression, try to keep a shark nigga guessing Give crazy shouts, son, here's the outcome Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored Shearlings I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides On July 4th, from Bed-Stuy Where money don't grow on trees and there's thieving MC's Who cut-throat to rake leaves They can't breathe, blood splash, rushing fast Like running rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver
Writer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Russell T. Jones, Allie Wrubel, Herbert Magidson, Gary E. Grice Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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