| The echo chamber enhance the flow with the block party | |
| Keep an MC head spinnin' like | |
| Dark Bacardi, this | |
| BAC is 2.3 | |
| Now the liver's damaged, but his lungs are joint free | |
| So inhale, exhale, breathe and get well | |
| Kick somethin' live stop chirpin' like | |
| NextelI'm all in together, a swordsman forever | |
| I paint the town red with many heads are severed | |
| R-A-W, I still bring trouble to | |
| Throw your raps in the sleep hold, quick to snuggle you | |
| Dart heat your breastplate, meet ya death date | |
| Rook down a | |
| E4 look, it's checkmate | |
| No other way to describe a catastrophe | |
| The plan was drawin' blood and displayed it graphically | |
| Direct order, hit the border, then slaughter | |
| Horrific torture by prolific authors | |
| Shape and mold | |
| MC's, like | |
| I'm playin' the skelly top | |
| It's gettin', “ | |
| Hot In Here” | |
| Like the single that | |
| Nelly dropped | |
| So take ya clothes off, the track is so soft | |
| A little rock'll turn 'em into | |
| Ivan Koloff | |
| Why do the | |
| Gods make | |
| MC's study from | |
| Thirty five, and fifty year, then try to become | |
| Under the study with the sword above the head | |
| So he would keep in mind under the open pledge | |
| Fierce glisten, somethin' so sharp | |
| Piercing, swords cling, the vigilante intimate | |
| Close combat, this is | |
| MC'ing at it's best | |
| But there is no contest, sent | |
| I'm thisSpeaking of a test, this and try to question this | |
| He so different with the swiftness, godfather civilization | |
| Shell casin', universal nation | |
| Could he be the one predicted? | |
| Presidential sent in | |
| Old school soul to war us, be the growlest | |
| Asiatic arctic flow is so frigid | |
| Is it the zig zag? | |
| I'ma pay you a visit | |
| Somehow mistake me as an old wise wizard | |
| World, I'm not the same | |
| I go somewhere, don't remember how | |
| I cameIs it the weed, the hash or the 'caine? | |
| Or the Digi being stained on my brain? | |
| Appear from a cloud of smoke, the voter's on choke | |
| If surrounded, seven men drop from one scope | |
| Even if my feet was shackled down to one handcuff | |
| To defeat me, ten beno's wouldn't be enough | |
| I sleep in the lion's den without the steel iron | |
| Ascended like | |
| Wu, so coming down from | |
| Mt. ZionSuperlogical this, superlogical that | |
| Digital, take it back with superlogical rap | |
| Have a shootout at midnight, the sequel's quicker | |
| Forty four colt jolt, all you seen was the flicker | |
| You distressed like the damsel, lost like little rascal | |
| A flame couldn't generate the heat of a candle | |
| Me, I be a | |
| Killa Bee, keepin' exilery | |
| Ol' play the desert e, shoot ten millime' | |
| Master the millipede, you try to end the sea | |
| Your body being found in the neighbor yard artillery | |
| A black blind governor, a rich white mayor | |
| Man, this whole city ain't got a prayer | |
| Bobby has invaded, now the whole town's slated | |
| Your decapitated head is being took and operated | |
| Up and down the avenue, | |
| I drive a shatterproof | |
| Benz and all my men's are tattle proof | |
| My mic is a dyke, my life is a light | |
| A day to God is a thousand years, how long is a night? | |
| You get trapped in my shadow of dark ark, who goes there? | |
| Power-U smells like carp, don't put your nose there | |
| Drop you to a tank of sharks, your wound's bleedin' | |
| And it's been two weeks since they had their last feedin' | |
| Ain't nothin' but bones, we plotted the sand | |
| And spread it out, over twenty acres of land | |
| Some call me steels, 'cause it's hard to bend me | |
| C-Cypher Pigs can't apprehend me | |
| In a no smokin' zone, | |
| I smoke bones of hash | |
| Niggas see me, then | |
| I disappear in the flash | |
| Next time | |
| I'm spotted, | |
| I got the fatter wallet | |
| Movin' with a click that stick like dry porrage | |
| Someone's been sittin' in my chair, who goes there? | |
| To sub zero cold, your words can't flow here | |
| Glaciers of ice, plus layers of spice | |
| Say your prayers at night, 'fore you touch that mic |
| The echo chamber enhance the flow with the block party | |
| Keep an MC head spinnin' like | |
| Dark Bacardi, this | |
| BAC is 2. 3 | |
| Now the liver' s damaged, but his lungs are joint free | |
| So inhale, exhale, breathe and get well | |
| Kick somethin' live stop chirpin' like | |
| NextelI' m all in together, a swordsman forever | |
| I paint the town red with many heads are severed | |
| RAW, I still bring trouble to | |
| Throw your raps in the sleep hold, quick to snuggle you | |
| Dart heat your breastplate, meet ya death date | |
| Rook down a | |
| E4 look, it' s checkmate | |
| No other way to describe a catastrophe | |
| The plan was drawin' blood and displayed it graphically | |
| Direct order, hit the border, then slaughter | |
| Horrific torture by prolific authors | |
| Shape and mold | |
| MC' s, like | |
| I' m playin' the skelly top | |
| It' s gettin', " | |
| Hot In Here" | |
| Like the single that | |
| Nelly dropped | |
| So take ya clothes off, the track is so soft | |
| A little rock' ll turn ' em into | |
| Ivan Koloff | |
| Why do the | |
| Gods make | |
| MC' s study from | |
| Thirty five, and fifty year, then try to become | |
| Under the study with the sword above the head | |
| So he would keep in mind under the open pledge | |
| Fierce glisten, somethin' so sharp | |
| Piercing, swords cling, the vigilante intimate | |
| Close combat, this is | |
| MC' ing at it' s best | |
| But there is no contest, sent | |
| I' m thisSpeaking of a test, this and try to question this | |
| He so different with the swiftness, godfather civilization | |
| Shell casin', universal nation | |
| Could he be the one predicted? | |
| Presidential sent in | |
| Old school soul to war us, be the growlest | |
| Asiatic arctic flow is so frigid | |
| Is it the zig zag? | |
| I' ma pay you a visit | |
| Somehow mistake me as an old wise wizard | |
| World, I' m not the same | |
| I go somewhere, don' t remember how | |
| I cameIs it the weed, the hash or the ' caine? | |
| Or the Digi being stained on my brain? | |
| Appear from a cloud of smoke, the voter' s on choke | |
| If surrounded, seven men drop from one scope | |
| Even if my feet was shackled down to one handcuff | |
| To defeat me, ten beno' s wouldn' t be enough | |
| I sleep in the lion' s den without the steel iron | |
| Ascended like | |
| Wu, so coming down from | |
| Mt. ZionSuperlogical this, superlogical that | |
| Digital, take it back with superlogical rap | |
| Have a shootout at midnight, the sequel' s quicker | |
| Forty four colt jolt, all you seen was the flicker | |
| You distressed like the damsel, lost like little rascal | |
| A flame couldn' t generate the heat of a candle | |
| Me, I be a | |
| Killa Bee, keepin' exilery | |
| Ol' play the desert e, shoot ten millime' | |
| Master the millipede, you try to end the sea | |
| Your body being found in the neighbor yard artillery | |
| A black blind governor, a rich white mayor | |
| Man, this whole city ain' t got a prayer | |
| Bobby has invaded, now the whole town' s slated | |
| Your decapitated head is being took and operated | |
| Up and down the avenue, | |
| I drive a shatterproof | |
| Benz and all my men' s are tattle proof | |
| My mic is a dyke, my life is a light | |
| A day to God is a thousand years, how long is a night? | |
| You get trapped in my shadow of dark ark, who goes there? | |
| PowerU smells like carp, don' t put your nose there | |
| Drop you to a tank of sharks, your wound' s bleedin' | |
| And it' s been two weeks since they had their last feedin' | |
| Ain' t nothin' but bones, we plotted the sand | |
| And spread it out, over twenty acres of land | |
| Some call me steels, ' cause it' s hard to bend me | |
| CCypher Pigs can' t apprehend me | |
| In a no smokin' zone, | |
| I smoke bones of hash | |
| Niggas see me, then | |
| I disappear in the flash | |
| Next time | |
| I' m spotted, | |
| I got the fatter wallet | |
| Movin' with a click that stick like dry porrage | |
| Someone' s been sittin' in my chair, who goes there? | |
| To sub zero cold, your words can' t flow here | |
| Glaciers of ice, plus layers of spice | |
| Say your prayers at night, ' fore you touch that mic |
| The echo chamber enhance the flow with the block party | |
| Keep an MC head spinnin' like | |
| Dark Bacardi, this | |
| BAC is 2. 3 | |
| Now the liver' s damaged, but his lungs are joint free | |
| So inhale, exhale, breathe and get well | |
| Kick somethin' live stop chirpin' like | |
| NextelI' m all in together, a swordsman forever | |
| I paint the town red with many heads are severed | |
| RAW, I still bring trouble to | |
| Throw your raps in the sleep hold, quick to snuggle you | |
| Dart heat your breastplate, meet ya death date | |
| Rook down a | |
| E4 look, it' s checkmate | |
| No other way to describe a catastrophe | |
| The plan was drawin' blood and displayed it graphically | |
| Direct order, hit the border, then slaughter | |
| Horrific torture by prolific authors | |
| Shape and mold | |
| MC' s, like | |
| I' m playin' the skelly top | |
| It' s gettin', " | |
| Hot In Here" | |
| Like the single that | |
| Nelly dropped | |
| So take ya clothes off, the track is so soft | |
| A little rock' ll turn ' em into | |
| Ivan Koloff | |
| Why do the | |
| Gods make | |
| MC' s study from | |
| Thirty five, and fifty year, then try to become | |
| Under the study with the sword above the head | |
| So he would keep in mind under the open pledge | |
| Fierce glisten, somethin' so sharp | |
| Piercing, swords cling, the vigilante intimate | |
| Close combat, this is | |
| MC' ing at it' s best | |
| But there is no contest, sent | |
| I' m thisSpeaking of a test, this and try to question this | |
| He so different with the swiftness, godfather civilization | |
| Shell casin', universal nation | |
| Could he be the one predicted? | |
| Presidential sent in | |
| Old school soul to war us, be the growlest | |
| Asiatic arctic flow is so frigid | |
| Is it the zig zag? | |
| I' ma pay you a visit | |
| Somehow mistake me as an old wise wizard | |
| World, I' m not the same | |
| I go somewhere, don' t remember how | |
| I cameIs it the weed, the hash or the ' caine? | |
| Or the Digi being stained on my brain? | |
| Appear from a cloud of smoke, the voter' s on choke | |
| If surrounded, seven men drop from one scope | |
| Even if my feet was shackled down to one handcuff | |
| To defeat me, ten beno' s wouldn' t be enough | |
| I sleep in the lion' s den without the steel iron | |
| Ascended like | |
| Wu, so coming down from | |
| Mt. ZionSuperlogical this, superlogical that | |
| Digital, take it back with superlogical rap | |
| Have a shootout at midnight, the sequel' s quicker | |
| Forty four colt jolt, all you seen was the flicker | |
| You distressed like the damsel, lost like little rascal | |
| A flame couldn' t generate the heat of a candle | |
| Me, I be a | |
| Killa Bee, keepin' exilery | |
| Ol' play the desert e, shoot ten millime' | |
| Master the millipede, you try to end the sea | |
| Your body being found in the neighbor yard artillery | |
| A black blind governor, a rich white mayor | |
| Man, this whole city ain' t got a prayer | |
| Bobby has invaded, now the whole town' s slated | |
| Your decapitated head is being took and operated | |
| Up and down the avenue, | |
| I drive a shatterproof | |
| Benz and all my men' s are tattle proof | |
| My mic is a dyke, my life is a light | |
| A day to God is a thousand years, how long is a night? | |
| You get trapped in my shadow of dark ark, who goes there? | |
| PowerU smells like carp, don' t put your nose there | |
| Drop you to a tank of sharks, your wound' s bleedin' | |
| And it' s been two weeks since they had their last feedin' | |
| Ain' t nothin' but bones, we plotted the sand | |
| And spread it out, over twenty acres of land | |
| Some call me steels, ' cause it' s hard to bend me | |
| CCypher Pigs can' t apprehend me | |
| In a no smokin' zone, | |
| I smoke bones of hash | |
| Niggas see me, then | |
| I disappear in the flash | |
| Next time | |
| I' m spotted, | |
| I got the fatter wallet | |
| Movin' with a click that stick like dry porrage | |
| Someone' s been sittin' in my chair, who goes there? | |
| To sub zero cold, your words can' t flow here | |
| Glaciers of ice, plus layers of spice | |
| Say your prayers at night, ' fore you touch that mic |
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