| I goddam done been having raps since way before the goddam tower collapsed
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| Inhaled enough dust to snap your synapse and I’ll still laugh
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| Consumed more than a cartoon, can’t consume in the South
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| Religion lives on the side of a sand dune, I can carry the tune
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| Here you go now, carry this balloon
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| This has been a strange trip, tired offering arms to people
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| You fired, if I had a penny for every son I sired, I’d be mired
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| In debt looking wired on the web, see the future science set
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| I got a manic panic button on the jet in case I get stir crazy
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| Don’t tell me about shady, I was busy plugging the First Lady
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| I saw him giving me the eye maybe, maybe
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| What’s fortune, things that others have so often
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| I feel so fortunate, still walking with all limbs
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| Need to respect the little things, they become small gems
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| Straight no chaser, lyrical freebaser, speed racer, amphetamines
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| Mirrors and razors, pages hit me like tazers swinging light sabers
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| Hard labor, bread and water, quote me on quarters, no tax I’m not your daughter
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| Got beef with cousin, catch concussion, biscuits bust it
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| Honey Jack sipping Robitussin, keep the engine running, that’s dive city
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| I-95 miss Billy, nigga pass me the nine-milli, what you smoking the illy
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| Hold your own, I’mma hold this bone like hold the phone
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| Stop the presses, switch addresses, move it like and 6'5″ Nigerians
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| Secret experiments rappers want the formula and hold it on my cornea
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| Known as the foreigner, faceless men in black, illegal alien rap
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| Undocumented visa like sunny cheeba, sativa bring the MCs
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| Follow the leader
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| What’s fortune, things that others have so often
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| I feel so fortunate, still walking with all limbs
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| Need to respect the little things, they become small gems
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| Rolling on me, pot wholes fumble
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| That love bumble and the blow bubbles
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| But can’t fumble when you hold your brake
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| Get high when we burn yards
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| Get drunk bumping cars like woofers in your doors
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| Living raw, nothing but powers we getting to wars
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| Across boarders everybody swinging swords
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| We live G lords, never bow to the law
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| Live to G spit on you peons
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| Of you negroes and sick flows
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| We represent four-dollar heroes and negroes
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| Not only copping benzos, fortunate as we got those hoopties
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| 1−2-3 spitamatics, we represent straight havocs from the young ones
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| That used to like having fun on the blocks
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| Living in all day, spin that rap dangerous
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| From the dangerous most dirtiest traps
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| You heard it the word that’ll come from the most
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| Young guns that’ll spit til you gone
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| Jade up, spit til the dawning, yo you niggas
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| Ain’t performing live over there
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| Niggas came to spare stones, just throwing it at you
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| Straight up clap you, fools
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| What’s fortune, things that others have so often
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| I feel so fortunate, still walking with all limbs
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| Need to respect the little things, they become small gems |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Minimalism , by - Billy Woods. Song from the album Camouflage [Re-Release], in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп