| God hates me, never keep my banger on safety
|
| My mother raised me alone, you can’t break me My hearts pumpin’the blood of Hoyce Gracie
|
| My thoughts dumpin the slug and point straightly
|
| You rhyme fakely, you still scarred
|
| I’m studying deep thoughts like Bill Maher
|
| I’m real raw, we just dumbin’it out
|
| And y’all ain’t sayin’nuthin’with a gun in yo mouth
|
| That’s what I’m about, but Vinnie Paz go deeper
|
| Y’all still under the spell of dose ether
|
| The Grim Reaper, it’s all nature
|
| And every word from Allah is on paper
|
| We all hate ya, we can’t stand you
|
| Chapter 8, verse 3, book of Thandrew
|
| You like a candle, you just burn
|
| You never worship Allah, you can’t learn
|
| Chemical space ships, taste dust spliffs, hit from the Matrix
|
| Pig Destroyer, Anakis kiss, splatter your patriots
|
| Make coast stops, injectin’my pockets with Botox
|
| Latex bitches be chokin’on cock like Blow-Pops
|
| My flows hot, my glocks like a popular friend
|
| Sniffin Oxy-Cottin, we rock till the popular says
|
| Merciful fate, we at the gates, I hurt you for cake
|
| Cause Red Planets like a Shit Magnet, it counters with Jake
|
| Digital cuffs, runnin’from the D’s and the fuzz
|
| Gut you out, rock Gas Mask, bleedin an stuff
|
| Into the void like blue velvet, goons and clerics
|
| New synthetic designer jewels for moods in deserts
|
| In heaven and earth, barcodes to measure my girth
|
| Thats like the J.D.L. |
| joinin’the Zulu Nation for turf
|
| Birth of the solar, we did so, write for the cobra
|
| Goretex readin we all stand with iced out cobra’s
|
| Check it. |
| yo. |
| yo Now what it be’s like, niggaz wanna stay tight, I stay right
|
| Face fight, get your weak, split, shit that I spit
|
| Most Acurate, Flex writin back a bit
|
| range on the side of it Yo I’m tryin to get a lot of it
|
| I rock that exotic shit, spit the hottest shit
|
| Yo trial, might get the same time giancanna get
|
| Death before dishonor shit, gangster persona shit
|
| Jedi Mind, 2−5 is who I’m polly with
|
| When Im tryin to score the third, it’s who I holler with
|
| Yo hood, its my project, exchange objects
|
| Yo guns for my teks, yo range for my lex
|
| From Q.B. |
| to Philly, we control sets
|
| I stay splurgin, heads stay wrapped in Turbans
|
| Tigher than a Virgin of Ford Excursion, nigga
|
| So how you figure that we don’t be reppin'
|
| Whole drugs and weapons in a dodge intrepid
|
| Yo Stoupe, whattup baby, whats good
|
| Jedi Mind, the gracious, 2−5 collabo |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Kublai Khan, artist - Jedi Mind Tricks. Album song Visions Of Gandhi, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп