| Hate runs deep in the hearts of many
|
| Hate runs deep in the guts of all
|
| Cause your hate can judge a fate
|
| When guns blaze at nighttime cause it’s the right time for wrong
|
| Hate runs deep in the hearts of many
|
| Hate runs deep in the guts of all
|
| Cause your hate can judge a fate
|
| Cause niggas cuttin' they lifelines for crime, but we still movin' on
|
| Index fingers touch rewind as my aura propels your mindstate
|
| Leaving behind fake visions
|
| You’re blind cause it’s hard to find
|
| Lyrics flood the black market more than rock can steal
|
| My stock’s hot, cause it’s realer than real when caps peel
|
| Pay rent for cement, mother’s hearts gettin' bent
|
| 'Cause nights is trife
|
| And it’s chllin' like a villain executin' his killin' but there’s no blood
|
| spillin'
|
| And it’s just as illin', Prepare for head-fillin'
|
| When you enter my jurisdiction of non-fiction
|
| And lead-fillin'((/led feelin'?)) if you steppin' to mad niggas bitchin'
|
| Cause the yang is regretful when you’re letful
|
| Bleedin' buckets of red from your head over duckets, fuck it
|
| I’m living for next year, my dear
|
| I say cheers and guzzle eleven beers to celebrate
|
| The years of my life, I got mo' days than fo' days
|
| Though some are po' days, optimistic I’ll stay
|
| For me, my grandmother will pray a check spray my way
|
| Losin' sleep over victims of the creep
|
| The well runs dry as niggas wish to die
|
| He said goodbye watchin' his honey cry
|
| From the other side of Ryker’s glass eye
|
| S guards no fraud
|
| Eloquent speech will teach, though my hate runs deep, nigga
|
| Word up yo, my hate runs deep
|
| No lie
|
| Aiyo, my hate runs deep like still waters
|
| The thought of all frustrations, bring forth innovations
|
| I flip my rhetoric and direct it, with some
|
| Egotistical mystical type of shit, to make their heads split
|
| I bring complex sexual intercourse to microphones
|
| Hittin' my slang with the anger from my childhood
|
| Runnin' around with dirty stains in dirty Haines
|
| Peepin' flirty dames, shit never stay the same
|
| I used to write 'cause it was appropriate
|
| But now I feel I gotta write for industries and associates
|
| Some years back, I found a pillow to scream into
|
| I was fiendin' through crates of legendary greats
|
| And seein' through the whack individuals who left residuals of bullshit lying
|
| around
|
| Fuckin' with niggas like me, 'cause now they’re tryin' to be down
|
| With my session, corrupt like projects in the recession
|
| Consider it a blessing when Marvel hit the stage
|
| Go home and write a page 'cause it’s my daily routine
|
| Vibrations are caught, and then I see the unseen
|
| When I creep, you know my shit is deep, word up
|
| Niggas gettin' stuck in the alleyways of unlucky schemes for bucks
|
| Stuck in that and short cuts
|
| But I chose to fight those urges that were foul
|
| And write prose in spite of foes lurking the prowl
|
| So I live to see my child smile
|
| To increase my chance, fertilize my side of the family branch
|
| As my flows enhance the relationship of romance
|
| Women get stuck in a trance, brothers dig my style as I intoxicate
|
| Their minds with concise rhyming and give 'em the whole nine
|
| My shit’s natural, a prime
|
| Generating inspirational thoughts
|
| Bitches still get caught in the crossfire I duck
|
| So the streets don’t talk
|
| No concern for the rebel as an average nigga got dissed
|
| Pulled the trigger and missed
|
| Now a casualty lies on the streets leakin'
|
| Attitudes peakin', the levels settle when I’m speakin'
|
| Momma’s hands was reachin'
|
| Thought there was black on the backs of many
|
| The day they buried the child who died for the worth of a penny
|
| This topic strikes me
|
| MC Saukrates says shit unlikely
|
| To cease, black please come back, fittin' stereotypes exact
|
| Chemicals react when I rap
|
| As a youth I never thought life could be so tough
|
| Givin' half a deck, you never realize that you’re bluff earnin' half a check
|
| The moonshine traders, a drug deal parade
|
| Receiving another wage, gettin' paid to get yourself a fade
|
| Don’t let cash burn fast no more
|
| According to the world you’re poor |