| The slang is heavenly the pedigree, Shawshank assemblies
|
| We bang melodies, crowd’II boomerang the energy
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| Locked in blank memories, pop them thangs steadily
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| Merrily, before I let go Franky Beverly
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| Set in a maze, cycles, inherited praise
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| The merit of jades, played by discredited slaves
|
| Every days the proof and embedded on stage
|
| To spark a deliberate blaze:
|
| We double-team on tracks with killer-themes
|
| Turn wax to guillotines
|
| The illest dreams of abstract sinister screens
|
| The Rap ldi Amin, a mack and triple beams
|
| We stick record-execs in their black limousines
|
| Fuck what you heard ops, the world turns to stop
|
| My nerves’ll burst shots at blurred disturbed cops
|
| You get got, I work curves & dots
|
| Ya hide behind a mask like Shirley Murdock
|
| Could you relate to the promises given
|
| Could you regroup and pay homage in prison
|
| Follow the system! |
| Now, could you watch
|
| Them demolish your kingdom …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom!
|
| Could you break all them promises given
|
| Could you revolt and empty a cartridge to
|
| Rhythms, honestly listen! |
| Now, let faith be a part of your vision …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom…
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom!
|
| Sticks and stones, visions of chrome and twisted homes
|
| Brainstorms drift in zones of Bonz Malone'
|
| Me & Mrs. Jones intoned to Nina Simone
|
| L’m jinxing poems on mystic thrones …
|
| To alI my don dons, wherever they at or where they come from
|
| Fugitives on the run run choking_ their very lunges numb
|
| Biographies: humdrum, prophecies: undone
|
| The function’s to slap rappers with a pump-gun!
|
| Forfeit, the orbit of grand exalted
|
| My plans seem often like the hands that arson
|
| Plant the corbins in the lands of orphans
|
| The Co-operate, similar to gangs in Boston
|
| Square: The Architects the walking threats
|
| We palm your chest then bomb your decks …
|
| Cause & Effect, arm cadets to rob the vets
|
| L’m in the heart of queens like the ballpark of Mets
|
| Could you relate to the promises given
|
| Could you regroup and pay homage in prison
|
| Follow the system! |
| Now, could you watch
|
| Them demolish your kingdom …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom!
|
| Could you break all them promises given
|
| Could you revolt and empty a cartridge to
|
| Rhythms, honestly listen! |
| Now, let faith be a part of your vision …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom!
|
| I squeeze the pen, my tears repent the deepest sins
|
| Read these hymns I breed these gems on bleeding skin
|
| My peers and friends are fearless men
|
| Iman & Rasul 're like Siamese twins!
|
| EI-Producto, the raw composed disclosed gusto
|
| The Cold-Crush-Four, slash, Oh Oh those cut-throats
|
| Gun-smoke, bitch we never gave a fuck though
|
| We shine so bright, leaving all of ya sun stroked …
|
| Control the planets as told to abbots
|
| With horse and carriage, gold or granite, the force of malice
|
| Organic episodes of havoc
|
| Ask yourself when your soul has vanished!
|
| My infinite mind is the Einstein’s mimicking time
|
| Spirits refined, at prime l’m vivid with mine
|
| Giving them signs, crime-rhyme limited shrines:
|
| Ya better work on them feminine lines …
|
| Could you relate to the promises given
|
| Could you regroup and pay homage in prison
|
| Follow the system! |
| Now, could you watch
|
| Them demolish your kingdom …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom!
|
| Could you break all them promises given
|
| Could you revolt and empty a cartridge to
|
| Rhythms, honestly listen! |
| Now, let faith be a part of your vision …
|
| Lt’s just na na na Knowledge & Wisdom! |