Lyrics:
Mr. DJ would you please flip the beat on
I got so much to say I need two mics to speak on
You been pre-warned that if the path that ya be on
Is
Can't label this with five mics
Not in a heist, so fuck with the source
Right i live the life, I'm cold as ice
Behold the birth of Christ, I be Streetlife
Glock cock it
The block rock
Hardcore hooligan, verbal assault chop
Finally televised Kurupt, Daz and Nas
Lethal wit' mics like guns, bats and knives
used to record a PS mic
But I always walked by faith and not by sight
I got to stay focused
I am called by God yes I am chosen
I got to stay focused
I
it
Nigga I live it (no bloodclat gimmicks) blow
Soul survive cut me a slice of American Pie
Piece by piece, bit by bit
'Fore it all falls down in
controlled by the DJ on the mic
I love hip-hop and every joint he playing is tight
A day in the life is a brick in the foundation of like
A maze in Egypt
don't want to gain the whole world, and lose my soul
Don't wanna walk away, let me hear the people say
(Mr. Franklin, step up to the mic sir)
Check
Poppa
Skated through with the Ceasar Picadas
At high school got head by the lockers
Gassed the baddest girl in the class to show me her knockers
Poppa
Skated through with the Ceasar Picadas
At high school got head by the lockers
Gassed the baddest girl in the class to show me her knockers
don't want to gain the whole world, and lose my soul
Don't wanna walk away, let me hear the people say
(Mr. Franklin, step up to the mic sir)
Check
by the ceiling fan as I look up in despair
Are you there? Cause I'm here
Are you leaving me in tears
Cause you teaching a thing or two
Teaching me
Your startled and overwhelmed by life
Held by the very person that gave you life
Might've been scary
Now its a sacrifice
Do everything in your power
Make
I'm going to hold the time out, it's going down
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
C-H-R-I-S-T, Christ is with me
That's why we call'em Emmanuel
Even
them do, (yeah so we sing say) Forgive them lord, forgive them father
for them no know what them do, (yeah so we gusathem)
CHIZZY MIC
My mind blows decisions, at times indecisive
I think about the paradox that life is
Keep my head to the sky
And understand what Christ is
Turn off
God in her eyes
The father of Christ, sure to be immortal
Guzzlin' beer bottles by the dozen with Devin, that's mi hermano
(Big Pun, will be here,
style, I'm still *mini, money, mini, mini,
It aint all about the money*
[Verse 1]
When I was hustla, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs,
mini, money, mini, mini
It ain't all about the money
When I was hustler, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs, feel the silencer
Y'all still
to the eastwike
Even flat Joe's and even the lingwood is all hood
For the Christ your all driving is all hood
The ghetto
Ghetto
Ghetto
I can't get out
For the love of Christ
I don't need ice to leave you froze
Turn your brains to toothpaste
Squeeze till it blows
Grim Reaper with rap flows
Rap's
need except you so I cry that
One mic one cord to proclaim one track
One God one Christ one Lord and just that
I need my wife by my side and my friends
the plan
We travel to Beijing and end up in Japan
Hoods everywhere, bring the goods and gear
And teach them how to hold mics and grow them beards
Then
lost sheep
Call him Bo Peep
Hold up!
Give me the mic
Better believe Imma go hard
Scaring everybody with that lyrical miracle
Biblical theology
like (Chaka?) fuckin Chewbacca
Connect the dots, murder by design
Shit on your intellect, and fertilize your mind (mind)
Pull out the gauge and we can
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