Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Thinking To Myself , by - Esham. Song from the album Judgement Day, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 17.09.2008
Record label: Aknu Media
Song language: English
Thinking To Myself |
| Well I was thinkin to myself, how could I get mental |
| And drop a wicked track over a funky instrumental |
| I rhyme for the mind then in time you will find |
| The seven sign of death, and I am the seventh sign |
| The crew is like a devil, but the devil is the crew |
| It’s not what you know, it’s only what you proof |
| Some ask me many questions and wonder my religion |
| I’m losin my religion, that answer’s your decision |
| Blacks killin blacks, seems to be the new tray |
| Thought shall not diss Esham, that’s a sin |
| My favorite number 666, so guess again |
| And if you feel the need to pray, say amen |
| The drum is wicked, I think I heard him kick it |
| This beat is like a pussy to me, so I’mma dick it |
| I’m some like Dr. Jeckyl, but more like Mr. Hyde |
| Some people heard my rap, now they commitin suicide |
| Now tell me is that crazy, like Rosemary’s baby |
| I don’t give a fuck, so your death didn’t phase me |
| Some call me a psychotic, I’m more like a narcotic |
| My poetry’s a riot, and I’m down wit mill like product |
| The answer’s to your questions, might off to make ya vomit |
| So therefore when you ask me, I’m supposed to say 'no comment' |
| I’m feelin rather splendin, some people I’ve offended |
| But you bought my record, it wasn’t recommended |
| I’m in the top ten, amen, Esham the Unholy, so here we go again |
| No bloops, no bleeps, no blunders, no blurs |
| My style is unisex, for his and hers |
| Someone to ride my topics, unholy like I drop it |
| For suckers like you, I keep my pistol in my pocket |
| So please no disruptions, or rude interruptions |
| There will be a penalty for bitin what I’m bustin |
| So please understand, that I’m the fuckin man |
| Some people hear my music and they think I should be banned |
| One for the treble, two for the devil |
| Three for your grave that I dug wit the shovel |
| I’m runnin down the line and say a funky rhyme |
| Some more wicket shit for the very last time |
| I’m not the from old school and new school grade |
| I dropped outta school, sixteen and got paid |
| I’m glockin crazy dollars while ya fly girlie hollas |
| I got much game, don’t need no rope around my collar |
| I treat a bitch like a ho, a ho like a freak |
| Then I daze, in amaze, by the way I speak |
| I’mma say what I wanna say in any fuckin kinda way |
| Half you fuckas out there, don’t even know the time or day |