| Sparkin' extreme spinach
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| Watchin' your scene plumett
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| If lyrics were green vomit
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| My vocals would clean stomachs
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| Addicts wean from it
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| Where dreams and green run it
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| The faces on money change like the host on Teen Sumit
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| I’m close to being done with this industry’s cream driven
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| Supreme livin', seein' more demons than Gene Simmons
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| And mean fibbin' actors be adlibbin'
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| Fakin' the funk and some of us naturally had rhythm
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| Some of us act like they had women
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| Gats in the abdomen back when the fact is them cats
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| They didn’t have nuttin
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| For certain I’m sure it’s fiction but for some
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| The purest diction
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| Insures their jurisdiction
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| I’m kicking it up a level trying to stay in the red
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| Some stay in the bed, zombie
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| Like the Day of the Dead
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| With decay in the head
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| Playin' instead of stayin' ahead
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| Steadily portrayin' celebs, delayin' the inevitable
|
| When some come round
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| They run down when they touch ground
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| They climb up the structures unsound
|
| Some of you like the way my words caress tracks
|
| While some of these politicians secretly suppress facts
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| I’m sayin' through songs I write
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| My wrongs I right
|
| If you wanna fight the power
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| Get the power to fight
|
| Cuz some of us judge without knowing the man’s inner
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| And some of us find fault in the sin and not the sinner
|
| Influential ideas
|
| Push pressure on my peers
|
| That’s why most of these brothers have short term careers
|
| You appear to be what’s happenin'
|
| For a year you crackin'
|
| One hitter quitter now you missin' in action
|
| With no satisfaction from the streets
|
| I only hear foolishness when you speak
|
| I repeat, my predecessor’s endeavor with pleasure
|
| Lock and load, explode and come better
|
| Hopin that generation X
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| Be more wicked with the flex
|
| And not so quick to cash a check
|
| And disrespect, talkin' guns and sex
|
| Chasin' death, but end up gettin' layed to rest
|
| At your request
|
| You’re at the end of your line
|
| Out of your mind
|
| Idle women, weed and wine
|
| And shells for your nine
|
| The blind lead the blind
|
| Time after time
|
| When you rhyme for the shine
|
| Yo, I’m tellin' you to REBEL
|
| But dude, if you stale
|
| The 2na can tell
|
| Either you’re comin' to the party or you truant as hell
|
| Politicians ain’t got no problem puttin' you in the cell
|
| It’s like we rolled up a snowball and threw it in hell
|
| See some of us are looted with mail and suited to swell
|
| But still blind like you’re fluent in Braille
|
| Yo, I never can tell uh, why some make it or fail
|
| Speak it and spell overcome and still prevail
|
| We ripple the water frequently
|
| Blink if we show delinquency, please
|
| Human frequencies
|
| Have been diseased, A breeze ain’t what I’m feelin'
|
| Healin' is essential
|
| Mental aggrivation shows you what we’ve been through
|
| Yo, sign of the times influence the way I rhyme, man
|
| Pick up a nine and put down your picket sign, man
|
| Your life is worth way more than just some diamonds
|
| Without bling I still gleam
|
| Glisten and shine, man |