the shape I'm in my palms are sweaty my muscles was tense stood up fool I couldn't take the suspense I walked to the door kinda nervous Im not ready for
glance upon the multitudes of weak and seek To organization concentration camps so they can get lobotimized Fuck so bad, you feel sodomized Time for words
that it's true Until it happens to you, to you, to you 'Til that Sunday morning and you heard that callin' Gots to preach that sermon, choir, organ Palms
For niggaz up in they mom's crib listenin To this unadulterated Nas shit wishin it was then Instead a, me on this track on this beach with palm trees
grip in yo palm then yo heart rate and breathing drag back to normal as you realize these niggas just goin' to the store. Many of us mistake Phobia for
scorching, bloody pain in joined with the cold This hurtful infridgate situation becomes inhumanly unbearable I long for heat in any type of form For
tried to run a jook with things in they palm Not a problem so immediately reach for the john Right away the gun BUST! straight lifted a nigga How we moved his organs
straight Black-Portuguese Pretty palm-olive-soaped skin, AloeVeralese She looked like the type of chick you only see in fantasies The type of chick you would KILL for
Ca-ca-ca-cause everything is fine and dandy Go against me nooooow, I dare you, Bambi Half a million dollars just to upgrade the car show I ain't even detonate the palms
400 screen video editing with hard evidence Imagine being fined over a rhyme for steppin' over the line? When I inspired Hova and Nas Recite 33 3's 33 times For
my life I thrashed for the reason Of spilling from the crack To the palms of a doctor To a towel full of scraps My brains wouldn't fit Through her organ
Asian honey lemon, will throw drop full of nature The revolution won't platinumized and televised We third dimension strangers here for you to analyze
the crime watch out for mine Status superb assassins submerged stack up the bird Attics I serve for trying the herb stacks like I serve Move around from twelve making sells for
in the back of the cornfield Stuck like a quicksand on rich land While apostle tried to translate the novels in the palm of my hand I break training