[Intro: Bronze Nazareth]
Yeah, Yeah, Gun Rule n***a who that
Yeah, D-Town n***a, Yeah
Thought For Food volume two, Yeah
Back in the sands n***a, Yeah
Back in them concrete blocks, What
Yeah, Ayo, Yo
[Bronze Nazareth]
Who that n***a with the bronze mask, Hard tags
Break arms fast, In army boots, Salute, Take all trash
I landscape n***as while bagging the gra**
Toe tag you in calves like Paul Stein, I'm all rhyme
Yall n***as soft a** sand, In an hour gla** empty
Nine showers couldn't drench the
Full from my rhyme, Spit the clip empty
If your toe all the line make you repent the cardinal sins
It's father Bronze, Shine till my team win
The glove got worms, Blind the nine confidante grin
Reclining in hot sands, Still with the hot hands
Smack n***as, Shark attack blitz n***as
Four Wisemen throw the grits in
Thought For Food ain't cooked right, n***a we burn the kitchen
[Kevlaar 7]
Yeah, Yo we burning down the kitchen, Yeah, Yo
It's a million dollar kid with a million dollar swig
Fire ball, Adam's apple castle, My words
Show you the pen first, I owe you a dumb verse
For low pay, Slap you n***as that's Palm Sunday
Show you three sides of a n***a that's ugly
Foul mouth Bugsy driving reckless in a Hum-V
Dodging bullets inside a jungle you dummies
It's normal round here I inhale in a rhyme sphere
Blue like my blood, Cut my levy headed plugs
The Earth with memories, Carrying billfolds of felonies
Uprooted from Sesame, No friends for my enemies
And my forty is loyal so what the f** you n***as telling me
[G-Side 1]
Silver ruger, Foul mouth, Young kid from the gun
Momma rung his neck a thousand times, He still sold d**
Silver ruger, Foul mouth, Young kid from the gun
He still sold d**
Genocide, Homicide, Mainstream, Rap gimmick
Suicide bomber d**h wish, Internet critics