I just lit the fire Too late if you want to stay live You want my head, you're gonna die You're gonna to commit a suicide Your head is burning, you
I returned while they were eating supper at the table seated side by side upon a special stool. So I said when they were finished with their whole wheat
farms from out a million Who wanna rhyme, who wanna challenge the swordsman? That rock that fisherman hat like Gorden's I hose down the place, no shots to the face Elite special force
hold right deer from da blu coast my colors r pepsi i exist on both coast in the LB sneaker color of burnt toast wear my gucci NEwear specially where they burn
to have to burn the blood Til the Lotus made the save and brought me back up out my grave Now your homey walk forever, lookin for a head to sever '
way love goes The Chocolate City for Black Cesar Incorporated And all of the soft get faded So before you step to me use your head And you better think about it more than Special
so rugged, those panty hose tear I give you a run for yours I won wars I burn niggas like sauce Don't ever underestimate the power of the force Mark
don't you woke, you wake up Take up your mic and take off your make-up This style I made up just of dust Because suckers like you I will burn to a crust
name stuck. So when my brother was born my father became Big Red and my brother Little Red. I should have known from the first time when I realised their special
. So when my brother was born my father became Big Red and my brother Little Red. I should have known from the first time when I realised their special
yeah Now clock, kids, who got the cocaine? Don't tell me it's the little kids on Soul Train The meta-force it I put my brain to my jaw It comes from other
chopper Son of an obese burner perturbed to grow in a row Of rotating blood colors on brick textures And others modified climates make nasty tongue plunge (head
Creatively I have never been to this level First I'll put you in a sideways 8, then a pretzel Burn skin off face, burn face off skeletal plate Plasma
a million who wanna rhyme? who wanna challenge the swordsman? that rock that fisherman hat like Gorden's [U-God] I hose down the place No shots to the face Elite Special force
wit' thoughts Young'ns out like I-95's, they only cost Caught up in the fame comes along with the street game Don't forget about them head hunters, head