Lyrics:
Lord God
I come to you a sinner
And I humbly repent for my sins
I believe that Jesus is Lord
I believe that you raised him from the dead
I will
covered
Want a jewel, don't be cruel
It's authentic, don't be fooled
By these phony accusations
Backlash and slanders
Front, and they put pits in ya
even blue or red
But cross the wrong brothers and end up dead
You catch a body full of bullets and get blasted
Tryin' to be a gangsta but you just
alive
But I only like dead rappers
Compare me to the best rappers who died
And you rappers I used to look up to
I gotta cancel you now
Like Simon
dead serious
GOOD Music we the best period
Or you're deaf
Like the number 3 on the phone
Y'all remember how them numbers used
To be on the phone
Basking
always prepared
Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[swizz beatz]
It ain't over,
Birmingham, 1974, there occurred a bloody murder
Twenty-one people killed by bombs, Britain reeled in horror
Within three hours the British State
Blood is my medium leave jokin' for comedians
Dead ass serious slugs in your cranium
I need cash immediate
Over you I levitate
They locked me out
(Ay) (Ay, ay, ay)
I get head
I got all the bitches on my bed
Huntin' down a hoe 'til she dead (Ay)
Chasing all the bread
Wearing all off-white
I got
on 9-1-1
While you kicking up punchlines and puns
Man fuck that shit, this is serious biz
By the time Bush is done, you won't know what time it is
If
on 9-1-1
While you kicking up punchlines and puns
Man fuck that shit, this is serious biz
By the time Bush is done, you won't know what time it is
If
on 9-1-1
While you kicking up punchlines and puns
Man fuck that shit, this is serious biz
By the time Bush is done, you won't know what time it is
If
You might've bumped into me on the Rikers' bus
Weed in my cheeks, gem in my beauty sleep sleeve
Dead serious, knowledge by 2% triple geese
Come on,
You might've bumped into me on the Rikers' bus
Weed in my cheeks, gem in my beauty sleep sleeve
Dead serious, knowledge by 2% triple geese
Come on,
Fuck these niggas thinking?
Y'all niggas thinkin' I'm doing, just sittin' around doin' nothin'?
Oh my God, niggas can't be serious
Where the hood,
to this shit, I wrote me a manual
A step-by-step booklet for you to get
Your game on track, not your wig pushed back
Rule numbre uno, never let no one
everyday the ghetto youths dead up
[Verse 1]
Mi ask the leader
Him a di arranger
Fi mek poor people surround by danger
Fly an the roach an giant
to this shit, I wrote me a manual
A step-by-step booklet for you to get
Your game on track, not your wig pushed back
Rule numbre uno, never let no one
Theres Not A Serious Problem Nation Wide
Giving The Very Large Number Of People That Use Cocaine
It Is A Serious Problem For A Certain Small
more than risk my life
Splash man deep tryna see inside
This beef won't end till
All the opps' dead, That normal
(Normal) we get opps down, that plural
the guys?
Done more than risk my life
Splash man deep tryna see inside
This beef won't end till
All the opps' dead, That normal
(Normal) we get opps down,
left you dead in a van
Police off the leash genocide on camera
License to kill black folk by the millions
Shackles and the chains off boats we resilient
dirty
Ate my flesh
And killed my mental
She forgot I bet you
Wrist cut up in sections
Why I stress
If I'm blessed
By all this action
That friends saw
of Nikes
Know I'm serious
Do no masks but they still think I'm mysterious
They not hearing me
cll the Ls man they just really preparing you
Makes
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