millennium group, The Horsemen Four swordsmen, from the land of the lost Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Canibus Throw your 4's up or get your vocal
it, rock, c'mon y'all Yo my definition is a lyricist for hire My vocal's a passport that never expire The crowd loud like fifty rounds of gun fire Screamin
' Slow up Oc before you get dropped And closed like a caption Fractional kids don't know the time for action Styles got the rhythm that of an Anglo Saxon Round
, crush your crew without no effort Let me flip my vocabulary, vocal acrobatics Smack up phone dramatics, I can jam like automatics Nine millimeter, twelve rounds
Blast em back, okay let's get it started Original rap styles comin' from my shooter Fifty niggas deep, I'm the ill kid recruiter People gather round
we' ve got funhouses,murder go rounds house of horrors,and wax museums tunnels of love,terror wheels house of mirrors and killing fields Verse 1:Violent
my son All wet behind the ears I freeze I froze you're numb PUMP PUMP! I scream on you, you talk and talk PUMP PUMP! Run you round the track then walk
? Who programmed that shit sound wack Unplug your mic, you motherfuckers rap under a bunch of fuckin' hype Programmed by the company, makin' somethin' cheap Vocals
pull me Now blow the douja with this type of shit I'm writing I'm smoking hash ready to clash like the titans Unforgettable like Natalie's remix of her father song I keep my vocals
we ballin in twins Right up again,we love em,i said it before Stack your paper when you make it,it be money galore Let em know,for those who be round
got cheese pop three for R O C Uh, uh, uh yeah before these rhymes I was bustin' these nines before these raps I was bustin' my gat before the vocal
in the night, with no worries fuck the cops This shit is real dog, play with us and watch how many pop up In the junk yard scattered round, bodies all
treat you so lowdown So lowdown Yeah, don't ask them for no favor They will even stop comin' 'round Stop coming 'round you Well, I sent for the doctor
flask in the dash and the cash And the mask of different madman, flip blast In the glass of vision, precision to, get past on the map Very bad vocal
scenes Speak to me of this place Where I heard it's safe to make mistakes Where I can gather grace I can't show I can't show my face Round here CHORUS
when I've nothing to say Who'll hear me at all? CHORUS (with ad libs) to fade Produced by David Rosenthal Words and Music - Jane Lead vocals _ Jane Backing vocals
Saturday afternoon There were clouds in my mind there were birds in my heart All of the pictures that hung in my room And all of the memories sweeping round
first See you got this touch that revolve the earth I know you sweat when I'm out on tour I was IMX immature before Lot a broads just step round my hotel