chained or coiled short fuse n spark plugs the motor roar burn tyres leave dark marks on shadows of light i ignite the night with monoxide everything in sight
thrilled the meal got a George Forman Grill
tombstone pretenders engrave my name on contendors
hellsgate tbe best on the canvas U cant see me im eating u cancers
dead deal med wheels edge speils never yield to swordplay open lane let cha runaway con your ye between games open greys give you detonation by any means checking for green back in the streets retrievable exodus/
fuck the power and the fame, cuz im not trying to live vain, all the media attention make your ass insane resorting you to use cocaine and be up in the clouds wasting your soul away
NW[R].
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
"Fuck fame... I'll shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim." - Masta Killah (One Blood)
"Kiss the pyramid...experiment wit high explosives. I slap box wit Jesus....lick shots at Joseph." - GFK (Daytona 500)
...for sale souls on the market Lucifer outbids heavenly rackets
the devil toying with helpless targets drapped in wu wear garments
come out cha karma give it up i got the dharma your a divider a divisor high wisdom never speak off the the mad-izm now i trunk buck 50 sick swifty kick it sickly infectious/
slick pitbull Mike vicious the fans still with us
32 chambers a long time ago we relavent n fresh like Chicago
you a mic victum jacked, not a mike vick with viscious passes
sniff white sifted with acid while I'm jacked in
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...
-.5Kut
and strapped in Houdini escapes the reaper now dogde the trigger blast gun powder smoke still linger
lyrics that deliver like the nile river in antiquated time, while mc's sit back with a six pack and spit wack dilapidated rhymes
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