Lyrics:
ourselves
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get off meat
While we ask no reason for
and they heads going bob
I’d let you respond, but dead people don’t talk
So I guess I won’t stop until my jaw falls off
After ima hit the bar only one night
every time I'm by you!
This my second album, I'm back with the hits (Wit' the hits)
On the Rise was a hit, but this shits the illest (It's the illest)
like a meteorite
I'm Bogart-ing, mics and whole stages
Destroying MC's dreams, from words to whole pages
Their rapbooks, look more like scrapbooks
With
said
All 10 of these songs are hits
So it was that much more disappointing
When we only sold a handful out of the 100 CDs we had pressed
They were bought
To those leading revolutions
Skitcha’s gunna’s music
Ammunition can be found in decisions made
Fired shots can hit targets from light-years away
Far from
forget this like ya did the long-division
I'ma take my pen and pencil
I'ma show ya how I scribble
Bob and weave the way I dribble
Never settle, whistlin'
Over down on the driveway
Fast forward a couple of years and I'm bumpin' that Sade
Fast forward a couple of more and I'm bumpin' that "My Way"
By
of hits coming at this hour
This is WMFW FM
This hour we got Bob Marley
The sounds of Miriam Makeba, Muta Baruka
We got the live music group Gumbo coming
a different schedule
ain't know I'll pop this biG, that's 40 racks or better
Street lights, my gang up under them
Step on shit, bob barkers, these ain't Tim's
paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin' off-beat with
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin'
shooting
And another piece of red left my atlas today.........
*written by Bob Geldof
*from the album "Mondo Bongo"
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
Yeuh yeuh yeuh
Check me out now
Check me out now
Go head then..
[Verse 1]
Allow me 2 introduce myself again
Bobs at tha office but bobby ray is in
To the top wit my niggas
Pop wit my niggas
Drive by in whips, rock rocks wit my niggas
Break day on the hottest block wit my niggas
Just cause I
[DMX]
To the top wit my niggas
Pop wit my niggas
Drive by in whips, rock rocks wit my niggas
Break day on the hottest block wit my niggas
Just cause I (DMX)love
that's
There's a lot of percussion
There was yeah
Lots of things getting hit by other things
A notch down
Ctrl+A
Kay, now we're ready
Ctrl+C
We literally
Right?
But that's OK because this album, we gon' change things with this album baby
Because I know, in my heart
That there's way more people out there
might just stop by your daddy's
Roll around in Pikachu, throw that window down
Pack a big ol' fatty bowl, shit me smokin' now
Throw it into drive and hit
baby
Check this shit out right here, uh
E Pluribus Unum is the album I'ma drop
It'll make you bitch niggas as hard as rocks
Giving head
they're taking toll
If you've been bad, Lord, I bet you have
And you've not been hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better
lyrical batch
Cover beats with a lyric patch
Albums on play like meat on a plate
Not gonna quit my profession no way
My art makes you bob yo head all day
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