Lyrics:
Someday, I will collapse before this mic
Someday, I'll write a song that you'll hate
Someday, I'll release a song that you'll rate
All of this for
in time, you'll see the line
The line that's drawn between the good and the bad
See the blind man, he's shooting at the world
The bullets flying,
For that white powder
A deuce deuce will leave little holes
In your top like salt shaker
Then I'll finish it off with a big cap
On your head like a park
what you see in the streets
Despite what you influenced by, the life of crime has many downs
A little bit of ups, and everything you do got
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don't
I'm jus' tryna get by quick
I'm tryna drop my shit
I just wanna know when I'm gon' get my hit
Patience ain't enough I get it
I hope y'all respect my
album I copped
The Jungle Brothers Done by the forces of nature'
check out the cover
Afrocentric brothers just as dark as me
Hip Hop a guiding force
a picture hardcore with a gun
Pimpin' ain't easy but it's always fun (it ain't easy baby)
When it comes to nuts, I bust'em one by one
So what's the 411
want to handle her business
So I guess we'll be back when we finish
I don't want to leave by myself
(Boy, you ain't gotta leave by yoself)
Ooh..
by a damned old train
And I'll hang around as long as you will let me
And I never minded standing' in the rain, no
But you don't have to call me
by a damned old train
And I'll hang around as long as you will let me
And I never minded standing' in the rain, no
But you don't have to call me
mama's eyes
That old family album she'll keep on her night stand
Right next to the Bible until the day she dies
Through all those years in prison she
I'm like a ghost
I'll be living in a dirt room
Waiting for the day to be closer
To the window when you're home
I'll be standing by your back door
of sinners baby I'm a Cole album
When my album drops, niggas know it'll be a cold album
Negative energy, nigga I can't have it
When I prophesy, feeble minds
things, I'll aspire to do many things
And by many things, I mean everything, do anything, beat burying, flows varying
I'm an animal, cannibal, eat the beat
or that one
The white one or the black one
Pick the punk and I'll jump up to attack one
KRS-One is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face
I'm livin' large as possible, posse unstoppable
Style topical, it's vividly optical
Listen, you'll see 'em sometimes I'll be 'em
Cops, critics
two eyes,
Cool vibes by the poolside chillin'
With a few fine women like who am I kiddin'
This microphone's the only thing that I'll ever be grippin'
thoughts around me ain't getting me by
I'm finding truth in wounds much deeper than mine (Than mine)
And
Soon I'll pay my own bills with the bred from my
a picture hardcore with a gun
Pimpin' ain't easy but it's always fun (it ain't easy baby)
When it comes to nuts, I bust'em one by one
So what's the 411
This song was first released on the Autograph album. It is the only album it has been released on.
He was stranded in some tiny town
On fair
From the album best of donovan
An' my belly is craving, I got shakin' in my head
I feel like I'm dyin' an' I wish I were dead
If I lived till
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's malik my hobby's putting
rate
I seem to gravitate to the bottle of NyQuil then I salivate
Start off with the NyQuil, like, "I think I'll just have a taste"
Couple of sips
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