| Bling bling bling bling bling bling bling
|
| Bling bling bling bling bling bling
|
| Bling bling bling bling bling bling bling
|
| Bling bling bling bling bling bling
|
| I lay low, games I play? |
| No
|
| I slap nigga with gat over the head like Halo
|
| Automatic .44, blast and blow
|
| Shoot your faggot ass, somewhere over the rainbow
|
| The Price is Right, like gameshow
|
| My slugs like drugs
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| 'Cause of me thugs say «No»
|
| Big bro the real deal
|
| Ain’t Evander Holyfield
|
| It’s the boom from the steel
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| That make wounds hard to heal
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| I’m foul, I said it
|
| Like mad cow beef, I dead it
|
| Tell the paramedics forget about the anaesthetic
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| 'Cause I’ll leave you stretched out like calisthenics
|
| Through the barrel I set up my whole apparel
|
| Whole life candidate
|
| A menace
|
| One shot from the blam and you finished
|
| Fuck if you ate a whole can of spinach
|
| Still get mashed like a knish
|
| Cut like trimmage, I spare no facial hairs
|
| I shoot through your beer like Guinness
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I still mourn
|
| For those dead gone in this rat race
|
| I pass it on like a baton
|
| To the younger nigga who hunger
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| To learn from those six feet under
|
| Laying in the casbah lightning and thunder
|
| Learn the half of those who paved the path
|
| Do the math on niggas whose blood got splashed
|
| In these concrete streets what we call rap
|
| From music that leaks heat from the fucking gat
|
| Rappers be dying, bullets start flying
|
| Mothers start crying, niggas keep trying
|
| To make peace but I
|
| Keep rhyming over break beats
|
| Akinyele and Yoda on these UK streets
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| I sit alone in dark rooms watching muted cartoons
|
| Listening to dead rappers' old tunes
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Spark your lighters up for those who not with us
|
| Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone
|
| I sit alone in my four-cornered room staring at candles
|
| Well, that’s the story boys and girls
|
| And dogs and cats and goldfish and whoever else happens to be listening to this
|
| Because when you talk to someone you love it’s the best sound you can make
|
| For while images fade, these sounds will somehow remain
|
| They’ve become a part of you
|
| Ah, if you, if you have enjoyed this recording
|
| I wonder if you could do me a very special favour
|
| Could you please ring the police, Whitehall 12−12
|
| And say that I’m locked in the EMI recording studios
|
| Number three, Abbey Road, NW8
|
| Thank you again for choosing my album
|
| Well that’s it, I hope I haven’t bored you
|
| Stay alive, will you? |
| Live, and let live
|
| But before I go, I just to want to say something seriously
|
| Thank you so much, you’re very kind
|
| I congratulate you on being a fantastic audience
|
| You’ve been so warm and gracious and responsive and courteous
|
| Thank you so much young people, and may God bless you — goodbye |