Bronze Nazareth - Cloud 9 lyrics

[Kristina Green] If I could pack 'em out I'll lock down every house From L.A. to Chicago Roll 'em in a blunt I'll let 'em hit it once and they'd be dead If I could lock 'em up I'd use so much cut that when they fry 'em half They profit is gon' Cuz the sh**'s so damn wrong, they still gon' call Tryna get back on, and oooohhhh the sensation when he places his arms around me I'm higher then I could ever be [Hell Razah] Body bags in the back of the Ave They keep jacking our swag Rubber grip on the .44 mag We write rhymes in a scientist's lab With a pen and a pad So our chemistry is murderous gas I got the underground now in a smash Its stack digital cash And rip commercialized n***as in half Put a slash in his 360 He can't eat with me, unless you come thru the G-60 [60 Second Assa**in] They gotta We gon' be what we gonna be Money, clothes and ho's We don't care about responsibilities Love, s** and welfare checks We gon' be what we gonna be Gangsters, hustlers and a whole buncha murders for flavors You're a million miles from 120 degrees, 120 degrees Nobody's smiling Cloud 9 [Son One] I can't lie in cla** I wrote rhymes Had my face in the book resource was on mind Never said much, my thoughts was online And my notepad yeah the Son is gon' shine Even got reprimanded by my school counselor She said "Son you would never amount to a..." WHAT!?! "Successful man with these types of grades Quit all that rapping jargon throwing all your life away" And all that hype and praise won't see the light of day Even my moms tried to pray, hoping my mind would change But I couldn't keep the fire tamed in My heart playing beats yo I spend entire days in the dark Under a desk light, tryna create the darts Fighting the livest spark, designing a timeless art The wordsmith, I split these mics apart Out the dirt, unearth, polish the diamond [Hell Razah] Body bags in the back of the Ave They keep jacking our swag Rubber grip on the .44 mag We write rhymes in a scientist's lab With a pen and a pad So our chemistry is murderous gas I got the underground now in a smash It's stack digital cash And rip commercialized n***as in half Put a slash in his 360 He can't eat with me, unless you come thru the G-60 [60 Second Assa**in] They gotta We gon' be what we gonna be Money, clothes and ho's We don't care about responsibilities Love, s** and welfare checks We gon' be what we gonna be Gangsters, hustlers and a whole buncha murders for flavors You're a million miles from 120 degrees, 120 degrees Nobody's smiling Cloud 9 [Shabazz the Disciple] Now I lay, you down to sleep I pray to Lord my soul to keep And if I shall die before I awake I pray to Lord my soul he take Another time my mind dwelled on a spell I heard Cries from the dead souls burning in hell Visions of their flesh, drowning in the flood One of the hallucinogens and I seen head soaked in blood I snapped back to reality, dashed for my Bible Opened it up, in heavy confusion, reaching for survival But all of a sudden, I'm overpowered by that curse The psalms that I read, made my visions worst Seen a therapist, told 'em spirits tried to bury me Spilled what's on my mind, when I was done, he needed therapy He recommended a baptism, a sacrifice My soul rose to heaven but was cast back down by blast In forms of thunder, rain, hail, heavy winds Not even the blood of Christ could cleanse my conscious of sin [60 Second Assa**in] Cloud 9