Themselves - Gold Teeth Will Roll lyrics

[Verse 1] What is this place? These men with gold where there words break and they end Their time keeping nothing but stone and fool gold Stones worth the weight of ten working cla** winters Leading beginners to the skull in their wish If their was one… What is this place? Where greed came into all the mouths Like empty does the chest And spoke nothings in the pitch of street And the worn heart of a hound Like a dim machine twitching in the chest of potential… Who will come k** me? When I call all these men milk made of weak Fat with numb as they dish dung to the hunger It is an echo of yourself in this world That you're hearing Them yell Who will come k** me? Taking their rings off like women Because I will swear on their weakness They are the gunned sons of what's done Latter day knights Weakened at the bone with the weight of their poor words A lot of riskless mopes on the turn Of a coin around in their throats Lips leaking the poison eating at the honor of rap… Forcing blood from the cunning of kids From the future of things So they are starved for the gristle of meaning That which can be gnashed between teeth and never ate Only pa**ed [Jel] For real, save the children [Doseone] So I call them… I call them lambs to the lion they steal from And sick my pen on their thinnest of ghosts And do know they don't wake and take bullets with water like vitamins No, they sleep hard in a silk thicket And the cured skin of the scared and spent And we know they will be but ribs in the dirt… The sound of their songs gone mud in a landfill Eyes filled with a crowd of maggots and muds… And so the young go numb To the played bones of your weakness Across the only once of what's done… Gangster of trifles Throw out your gold teeth and see how they roll Licking your wounds in a white kings lap Falling in love with all guns… For rappers, there is no hell There is only fans and You will go there… And you will be cut from the cave where your words sour To the edge of your ears, and then strung… And then made to move with the grace of what's puppet Till your cut From the cave where your words sour To the soul of son and then fed through a fire to the dusk of what's done… To the absence you grew circa your birth and a d**h… Your eyes filled with a crowd of maggots and mud Jewelry loose on your bones Like you were on your meaning You ain't no pharoah you're an aimless error