Lyrics:
begin, to master
Rhymin' rhymin' rhymin'
Criminal minded, you've been blinded
Looking for a style like mine you can't find it
They are the audience,
begin, to master
Rhymin' rhymin' rhymin'
Criminal minded, you've been blinded
Looking for a style like mine you can't find it
They are the audience,
We heard about the mess
We brothers on stage
But we have more finesse
So if we orchestrate well
Then you should put us on and press charge
Let's get wild
Yeah, Master Ace in the house
The whole Action Posse's in the house
Ice-you-Rock's in the house, DJ Marley Marl's in the house
runs the show
When the stage is the G-H-E-T-T-O
Which is the one to blame when bullets blow
Either Peter, Jane, or John or Joe
But Joe can't shoot
runs the show
When the stage is the G-H-E-T-T-O
Which is the one to blame when bullets blow
Either Peter, Jane, or John or Joe
But Joe can't shoot
2300 Jackson street
2300 Jackson street
2300 Jackson street
Memories of growing up
And working hard
Our childhood passed us by
Mom and Dad
They
platinum before the sessions over
Rap master with the Houston heat holder
These players best to get they shit in check
Cause when I get my hustle on ain't
Afghanistan held for ransom
By the hand of this black man
Neo-colonial puppet
White power with a black face
He said fuck it i’ll do it
A master of disguise,
Dr dre invented
Turn on the box and let my son
Watch these studio clowns on 60 inches
I push a rover
Shit platinum before the sessions over
Rap master
is wrong
Glaze finna get his mothafuckin' rap on
So would whack DJ's back up off the 12 gauges
Give him some room
While the boom from the stage is
memory lies there
By passing the doors of his life was a stage I remember
And in later years he would cease to bare teeth to a stranger
For sentiment
memory lies there
By passing the doors of his life was a stage I remember
And in later years he would cease to bare teeth to a stranger
For sentiment
you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing"
"You are watching a master at work"
"yeah, bring it on if you think "
(yeah, uh, yeah)
to burst
I'm longing for a here and now' where there's a place for everyone
Where the self important leave the stage, and the wiser ones walk on
Where
cry for me?
Stay by my side? I'm a stay on my grind
Tell me will you ride for me?
Tell me will you ride for me?
Tell me will you cry for me?
Stay
Come, and bring the pieces to the master
He who organize by size then completes them with the plaster
Now, what should we call it?
After 12,
and a place where them things belong
The stage and a soapbox, this is only a song
To dwell on the matter much longer would be wrong
And people get by, she'll
happy to feel the cold
When I stand on the stage
You know you're standing next to me
You're right here by my side
Singing along
Sick of my song
That
just a fool playing with the master's tools
Learning how to break the rules of this record company pool
Hallucination, I see with my eyes
But my
[master p](talking)
What's up niggas?
I told y'all it's about to be on, nigga
We drop shit anytime we want to huh
Fell this nigga
It's real
raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.
So in a battle I be stabbin',choppin' M-C'ss like trees,
Piece-by-piece buildin' cabins.
I'm a maniac magician,
see these McBane brothers
They'll throw you off a stage
For staging theatrics
We'll call your card by name
Why d'you think we're called the McBanes
Just
If We’ve No Time (to Hear the Music)
Music and Lyrics by Lynda Dobbin-Turner
V1
Washington Metro, eight a.m, January two thousand seven
It was
Discuss these masters of the stage by evanescence Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In