Song Lyrics &
Soundtracks from A to Z

Published by Admin


[Verse 1] Less seen and less heard, It's the pillage Live where we die for trade, orphans of the industry, rise up against Pretense, DJ's of segregation come together plottin' on the Nation Cats got the puff powder dance Underground economics, take a chance at the crackpot Speak at the ones on top At the gay bar your best rap star caught not keepin' it real Whats the deal wit' ya'll wanna be MC's when Ghost hit you The struggle is official with this Chill cause we don't mix wit' yall uncle Tomers We rock those real black leather bombers For real, Park Hill not Beverly Hills Ya'll better be still My brains come out of my ball pen for my origin I put the work in, any predictament In fact it don't matter to me The rap Oprah Winfrey with less currency But rock beautifully, no security with me Hard times and prophecy One idea, two children and three for virginity Pure energy whenever you confront me I'mma take yours, star wars [Hook] Star Wars, storm troopers, evil rulers New manuevers, Black German Luger laser beam (repeat Chorus) [Verse 2] The tables turned now, enter Shaolin where it's cold now Let the Teck blow now More Jungle nails, Parkhillbillies pour gas on Phillies Blocks where the Babies pick locks And Women make love to other Women It's the pillage, your Mother's Sons No more cold war, it be the poor ones No radio play, from the hallway to the doorway They banned us, cease to understand us Rap criminals segregated, player hated Underrated, project recipients Cappadonna, bag with the marijuana I'm a late-comer, I spread love last Summer Photographs with the Hummer A young dumber, bound to get dumber I speak the real CB, pillage monopoly Talk a XYZ, ain't nothin' like WB O.T.F., a bag of Uno Sixty I love how the weed get me See me whole style tricky Gats under the table, the tables turn now Life is too short and too foul Fake Brothers will get exiled Staten Island style, chicka-Pow! [Hook] - 2X [Verse 3] I drop paragraphs of information My mind starts racin' I'm in the lot dancin' with the hard-headed I start to attack on every track when I react Dancehall style, ain't nothin' nice I came to regulate, Cappachino the great Comin' from all sorts of angles I close in, my team be the chosen Authorized like a hat tucked in You get s**ed in, catch a repurcussion and crushed in Paralyzed, open your eyes, it's us again O.T.F. hit you like the blow of d**h Pulled while you was 'sleep With or without the gold teeth Crunch and lounge, Q guardin' the door It's like Comstock, we in the Belly similar to clock Boys to Men buildin', in the street Oatmeal and Cream of Wheat Thugs smoke leek, it's like the penile in the ghetto Palmetto, chocolate trees, crying Babies Rabies to the ringworm, take a turn and get burned Tryin' to be this, realness Shaolin barracks is very high tempered Sensed it in the water sorrounded by the fairy boats Hallways with pissy cut throats We forever live, gotta protect the orphanage The beast men, learn to fight back with the poilcemen Star Wars...Star Wars [Hook] - 3x

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