(feat. Inspector Deck, D'Angelo) [Intro: D'Angelo] Babies dyin, moms cryin, and punks gettin off Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
it, the end of the chapter The beginnin of the next one The resurrection, imperfection, after death come The black son in the ghetto section The light protect them from the iron
huff, puff Or cuss, get stuffed in little bags, like angel dust Check out the bangle cuts, double rocks, tangled up And couples got bubbles, in the tub, lightin
you can let your imagination go with us Open up to what we say; this is where the magic starts [Mad Child] Yeah! Underground rapper with the firearm Sick dialogue, words stick like iron
scratches like a bitch violent sprays, leave my opponents in states of silent praise trapped inside the tyrants maze, fire will fry ya' in my iron cage
Turn my black, knife attack, there's no doubt Burn black, turn back, fire like a maniac Fix your head, run instead, don't work it out Split fire, hot
Till my pain friendly fire let the devil in me Every minute feels like infiniti Time I trapped in it like enemy fire in the city of hope surrounded by
, puff Or cuss, get stuffed in little bags, like angel dust Check out the bangle cuts, double rocks, tangled up And couples got bubbles, in the tub, lightin