Lyrics:
a coal mine
Thoughts deeper than a gold mine
So I'm out here slangin' on this blade
Hopin' that I don't get cut by these police
Makin' raids on those
mingle with the peasants, you too good for that, you different
Smilin' in your face, they see you stumble, they'll kick you
Work hard, trap by myself, I
to see him sitting in the shade,
Playing to the rhythm that the drivers made.
People passing by would stop and say
Oh my that little country boy could
left to my devices, time gets suspended
More than DMX's driver's license
My music's steady, not affected by the higher prices
People having sex in
bets and settling all debts
A giant leap for man begins with a small step
From a sword to a set
To my people on the picket line
Who's sicking
thirteen grand
Better go get myself an insurance plan
She's my man
I ain't got to where I'm going to
By hanging 'round with people like you
But then again I
It ain't always the target that your bullet scars its the innocent passes by.
Its always the good that truly die.
Now whatchu gonna do?
When you
you praying for?
Prayers
JOEY BRIDER: Now I lay me down to sleep and pray the Lord to be with all the people that have nobody. I want my mommy
by the language
They act so discreet, they are hypocrites so fuck them too!
I always loved you
You always had a lot of style
I'd hate to see you
Standing by the wayside, begging for a ride
I been waiting so long, a year has gone
Look at all the people, strangers every one
I've been looking
Enslaved by dogma, talk about my birthrights
Yet at every turn I'm runnin' into hell's gates
So I grip tha cannon like Fanon an pass tha shells to my
done
When I find that I have to run
Lyrics to music by the King of Swing, The 45 King
The words we bring I write, and sing
Cause I am Latifah, the Queen
White people are so scared of black people
They bulldoze out to the country
And put up houses on little loop-dee-loop streets
And while america
The wind is ruthless
The trees shake angry fingers at the sky
And the people hunch their shoulders
Hold their collars over their ears and run by
For combat, I bring a bag of my rhymes for the stat
I'm Plug One-of-a-kind for you people's delight
And for you sucker MC's, step to your knees
Enslaved by dogma, talk about my birthrights
Yet at every turn I'm runnin' into hell's gates
So I grip tha cannon like Fanon an pass tha shells to my
with a big bang,
And you'll never get yourself another chance.
Put aside the hoodoo and some of the voodoo,
'Bout people being different,
They're
It's hell up in Harlem, my main man just caught a bad one
Wetted by a magnum when he didn't have none
That goes to show you that even when you're
gone insane
They know a few will try to gain by trying to live like their teachers
Save me for now, save me forever
Hold me so close, I can't bear
for my people to hear this
'Cause my shit is for realness
For my people to hear this
Six years of age when I first got my rage
Father broke out
to be used
Or you're too shocked from being used
By these bullying children of the fabulous
Raffling off limited edition shoes
And what's it you do
Old John Robertson he wore a Stetson hat
People passing by would never affect
Long white hair bright blue
Eyes shining through
's if he knew, and he
high fellas stand by, here's the plan, see
Sit back collectin' TECs and checks and
Flowin' slow in a Montero flexin'
Beats break heavily, word to INS,
his boy-hood ambition by becoming coroner.
moderate laughter
The rest of you can look it up when you get home. in addition to writing he indulged in
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