Lyrics:
wasn't fly
Others claim to be fresh
But they're not KRS
I cannot walk around the street with my head in the clouds
Either runnin' on my gear or havin'
in the womb
Banging on the belly trying to rock the room
I was born with a mic in my hand (say it again)
I was born with a mic in my hand (playing
lean lean
Tell em' I need two shots, by two o' clock
Plus that adds about two thousand, two drops
Pull up with my crew, sinara
watch 'em in them hoods
I always thought living life was easy
Go to school, get a job, yo, it couldn't be me (be me)
So instead, I played my bed
My
ripened and rottened in our puberty
Two kindred spirits bound by destiny
Well now I was smart but I lacked ambition
Johnny was wild with no inhibition
gettin' thinner
Shannon is cool but her mind is gone
One fat rock and it's goin' on
She had another buddy, came by my place
Thick ass bitch, said her
like I'm Gunna in this gown but it ain't pucci
I'm my only competition baby
Can't no bitch out do me
He gone treat me like a lady
In the bed he gone
minded
Boy Scout been let out the cage
I'm on the loose
I'm in the Flatbush town
It's goin down
I still got my tre and my 4 pound
all-black[01:39.85]I'm sending out death certificates, put it in my job description[01:43.39]Rhymes like a young Charles Bronson[01:45.94]With the imagination of a younger
by accident
I had a purpose and that purpose was to beat a beat purplish
Slaughter tracks, I done put my two dimes and a nickel in this shit
I'm
Gun shots is fatal, my bars is prenatal
I kill little niggas, up close, peel little niggas
We the hottest out, still, little niggas
I'm better in my
the Milky Way
My soft brown hair glowing in God's pure white light
Fantasies came true by the apple tree near the cross that stood right by
In the name
don't come back soon, I'm gonna rock on ‘way from here.
‘Cause I've got rocks in my bed, my mind ‘s goin' around and ‘round.
I've got rocks in my bed
sink and fall through
[Black Ty]
"Somebody?s sleeping in my bed, getting my head
Now his broad is on the stroll getting my bread"
[Humpty-Hump]
held up to his ear
A wooden cabinet door badly in need of oil for its hinge
The voice following it, closer and louder, accompanied by static not present
and Smurv Village
The nighties, and all my ?yarda trenny? Brown's Village
Parkside tennants caught, thirties, forties, and the fifties
The cats out in Starite
landscape, of broken rocks
Whether heard in herb spots, jukebox or malt shops
Uncut live, drop eighty-five, in one shot
Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority
And each wall that he breaks through
Prolly best not to bring Danny round no sheet rock, huh
Ain't no escaping my fate tho, kid listen
I'm STILL up in
You live by the pole you die by the pole
My niggas clutch sticky's my sisters is stripping
I'm rapping to not live this life anymore ong
I seen
believe you ain't dead yet
I show more blind rage
Than Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles wrestling in a steel cage
("Yo this nigga's crazy!")
I got an artist
we Mike Brown
Dead in the dirt
If you like BLM and you watch CNN
Then you braindead
Probably wear a mask in the bed
While you layin' there wit' a
Fauci
a knot
Stomach in knots, thought I need some drank
I'm stuck in my bed and the dopeman said all he got is red
If I don't do red, Lord, I don't do red
I
you to be mine
Every day you're in my head
Like when I'm in the bed
I want you to be next
Smell your morning breath
You're the reason that my heartbeats
the west side streets
I'm talkin mad money, keepin it real
to all the homies who been real to me
It would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocks
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