Lyrics:
Honeys' with bodies
With Bravehearts guns in the party
Waves, braids, baldies
Trademarks to army
Is that Horse it must be
I heard he husky
Yeah, there
the keys
And I got Jackson Cannery
Millionaires and millrats
Live side by side
Messed up my brother's mind
He's far from earth
Tell me what's he
AK-K-K-K on
(brrt, bap, bap, bap)
Feel like you got hit by Julius Caesar
they like, "God, you on your way on? I'm like, "On my way"
You ever had so many
seconds
And trust that I never come second
Tripodi I be a descendant
And trust that I'm gonna defend it
A deadly demeanor like Julius Caesar
They call me
the Bullock Family Mass Choir sings it, it can go from 4 minutes to 10 minutes like a revival song.
Gather in your tools, your work is all done. Gather in your
It Smells on my clothes when u meet me
You can tell by face I've been spliffing
Too animated I'm Rigby
All o my huned is wit me
We keep it one huned n
beatin' fast)
I got plenty (I got plenty)
It's so many, yeah (so many, yeah)
They say gimme (they say gimme)
He got plenty, yeah (yeah)
Bruh, you
I'm sorry for your loss
It's somebody dead in the car and it's probably one of yours
The writing all across the window in the walls
Whether it was
losing
Lot of fathers getting fucked by the constitution
Like you don't know
You act like you believe it
That you're in control
It's just your legal
and
The control in everything"
Maybe she had been messing with me all along
Or maybe she was simply telling me that it is
Not her job to explain herself i had
nothin' but ice cubes in the freezer
Scrapin' up change to get some food wasn't easy
Every other day, it was ramen noodles or Little Caesar's
Lookin'
A real slut and let the ho get on and make her money
You understand? I got a homey sittin' by me
Understand this nigga don't understand because he's
nice-ta-meet-ya"
Ima go crazy for all of my people
More stripes than a muh-fuckin' zebra
Coming through like Max Payne
Extended clip, it got no aim
I live in Harvard
Caesar ruled Rome and all it's glory
Every land called Alexander Great
But no man can compare in any story
With the one man who controls so many's
Advocated by the few who do live it
Bloomberg, make a nigga cop the Mossberg
Shorty ain't a shorty, he a Shooter like Wahlberg
Old man told me, don't be,
of anything evil committed by him
The wife of the governor said, Now the truth is clear to all
It was I who sought to seduce him, and he is surely
I'm the three
And three (badda-ba-ba-by-by) it's the magic numberrr
(badda-ba-ba-by-by)
Chorus: KRS-One
It takes 7 Dee Jays to control a sound
the same God who controls every breath we take
Because it's His breath in our lungs
He's the same God who steps in to fight for us
When the Devil thinks he's
It's Earl, Mr. Early Bird, gets them girls with curvy curves
Skate Mental, truck smack a faggot in his Shirley Temple
Your rhymes rentals, give 'em
computer
And it didn't mean
Anything to me
Back then
And he also
Tapped on a table
In a rhythmic way
Kind of like
The sound of
Horses running
Kind
that bench
I'll be waiting for you by that bench
At the bench that we met at
I know that I go too fast
I know that I got a friend and
He is a dada
I know
Likes to judge people in many wrong
Ways i felt judged by many people and
That every time that I judged somebody
They always took offense to it
But I
just drown me
I'm drowning
Always putting in that work even when we're lounging
Keeps their heads bouncing
Won't stop even when our names all they're
the R
It ain't where you from homie but where u are
Me I'm from the E, town to be exact
Got homies in E City, G-Vegas where u at
I'm a Carolina Panther,
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