Bronze Nazareth - More Than Gold lyrics

*Man speaking Japanese* (Bronze Nazareth) I'm a king with no wings, but we can box in one I'm toxic, spun off the marksmen epiclotist Ex-robbers, vile toting, swinging totem pole Cobra ax flow, n***as spinning jacks slow Government remote control, my brain power Rain shower, man and gods, what's the odds Even I'm wrong, I'm still right, get large Seven Wise, hitman, hit squad, dip bars In golden jars, I speak a sunshine flow Throw a drumline slow, like gumbo Aiyo, my music testifies, and if it's not 5 mics It's atleast ten gongs Throw a rope up to God, maybe you'll climb this high In the tree house, I'm tree'd out, speak about Something, to think about a bleed out Flee to my house, hold a tree to my mouth, inhale it's Brain tsunami, hope your chain and all your property Is enough to keep you, on top of the water Shallow n***as sink deep, and there's sharks in the water Who run the soundboards, from here to abroad While ya'll n***as sleep as if the Lord had called, uh *Man speaking Japanese again* (Interlude: Timbo King) Yeah... yeah, that's who it is Yo, Bronze, you gon' get a gold medal on this one Yo, Kruger, I got my thinking cap on, listen.. (Timbo King) Look, I will murk you holmes I'm Muhammad Ali, I will hurt you Holmes You ain't nice as hell, you a Comic View rapper You should write for Chappelle (GZA: "Konichiwa b**hes!") Let's spit the pie f**ing three ways Now we got enough gwop up to pay DJ's Punch rappers, blood in they mouth, sell it on eBay n***as got G5's now up in the PJ's Wanna pull wool over eyes, go get a sheep And the G's shall inherit the streets over police Cop jars of that white widow, write it on a memo Internet thugs, they get thrown outta they windows Fight club, I grab mics with Nike gloves Inside night pubs, we smash light bulbs I break n***as up like gla** dishes, I'm past vicious Before I bury ya a**, any last wishes? Dry ice, I'm rockin' ya man into fried rice f**ing with Bo, you could die twice The game is fixed, they pulled the same tricks on Zab Hop outta cabs, right in front of Sacks, Fifth Ave. f** Bloomberg, new law, marrying f*gs You should get a job in Pathmark, carrying bags Spit hotter than a day in Nevada, with a mink on Father, slash corporate, without the pink on Ya'll dudes got a "problem" And I ain't talking 'bout Mathematics and his album I'm famous, amongst the streets in all projects The Black Rick Rubin when I'm putting out a project See me on Can*l, plus cursing in my sentence Smiling, medicaid paid for the dentist A dollar goes a long way from spending pennies Might wind up broke surrounded by them gimme's Loose ball, you can chirp, you can Boost call Shots rain out, from the top of the roof, ya'll Smoke screen, I smoke green, light a Dutch up... What's that, diesel, son? I'm cold blooded, Rick James, up in my veins Hurricane, hurri' wind done flooded Besides the shows, online sales and features I've done made more money this year than teachers (Bronze Nazareth) I hit the smoke, stack it like my b**h's batter Might shatter like pipe dreams, splatter ya gray matter When things get rough, pull something from my sleeve Longer than Joker gun, keep hope alively With a smoking gun, I discipate a Crimson gate Escape and scrape the fishscale straight, move the plate High maneuvers, blue street pie for dinner Consider a sinner, simmer my lines like roaches shimmer Leftover bread winner, a lively dead winter Since my placenta had adventure grammar My wild life is trife like arachnid's trapped in amber No one can sh** on these schemes with pitiful means Put you on the hospital beams, and audible screens My possible scam, a sonogram of modern man Harbor, G. Carver plans, why do we sit in stance?