Sound Of A Gun - Lyrics - Revelations - Audioslave

Title: Sound Of A Gun
Album: Revelations
Artist: Audioslave
Composer(s): Timothy Commerford, Chris Cornell, Tom Morello, Brad Wilk

Lyric:
In the here and now I wait
Down among the young and the old
Between the moon and the ground I play
With my children in my home

This is for the daughters and sons
Of forgotten ones, learning how to stand
This is for the innocent unknowns
Buried in the sand

I'm running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun
'Til I'm weary
Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun

From the crack in the blackness I wake
It's getting closer every night
And my city playground is a battleground
Between the wrong and the right

I could run free as a child, I was safe and wild
Naked and unarmed
Now I'm grown and safe in my home
But some will never stop

Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun
'Til you're weary
Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun

The open mouth of the city
Swallowed up the town
With that same old concrete
That I still walk down

And it seems they put a shine
On this place when I was young
And baby, I just don't see it now

Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun
'Til I'm weary
Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun

Running from the sound of a gun
Running from the sound of a gun
I'm running from the sound of a gun
I'm running from, I'm running from the sound of a gun

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6a5fadc1e9cb48c2a5c65ed6ba93348c

The Sound Of A Gun - Lyrics - Chris De Burgh

Title: The Sound Of A Gun
Artist: Chris De Burgh
Composer(s): Chris De Burgh

Lyric:
I have seen the diamond stylus
Cut a groove from north to south
Heard them calling
From the islands for a better day

One by one they tell their story
One by one it's just the same
They've taken our leaders
And all their believers are paralyzed

And now we can't turn back somebody is watching you
Don't turn 'round yesterday's gone
And even the children are waking at midnight in tears
Didn't anyone hear? Mother, mother, mother

Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun
Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun

Looking out my bedroom window
I remember early days
When the shot that wounded millions
Took our breath away

But now the shadow of a gunman
With his balaclava eyes is making the news
Calling out the warnings on the telephone

You're in the line of fire wish there was another way
Line of fire anything goes
And who is the winner and what will the minister say
At the end of the day? Never, never, never

Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun
Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun

This is bella soma, this is bella soma
This is bella soma, this is bella soma
This is bella soma, this is bella soma
Mother, mother, mother

Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun
Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun

Hush child go to sleep
It's only the sound of a gun
Hush child do not weep
It's only the sound of a world on the run
You're hearing the sound of a gun

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893ea68528286adac71eb0492af03af9

Sound Of Da Police - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: Sound Of Da Police
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker, Eric Burdon, Alan Lomax, Bodie Chandler

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Yes, indeed

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Yes, indeed

Stand clear, don' man a talk, you can't stand where I stand
You can't walk where I walk, watch out, we run New York
Police man come, we bust him out the park
I know this for a fact, you don't like how I act
You claim I'm sellin' crack but you be doin' that
I'd rather say "See ya" 'cause I would never be ya
Be a officer? You wicked overseer

Ya hotshot, wanna get props and be a saviour
First show a little respect, change your behavior
Change your attitude, change your plan
There could never really be justice on stolen land

Are you really for peace and equality? Or when my car is hooked up
You know you wanna follow me, your laws are minimal
'Cause you won't even think about lookin' at the real criminal
This has got to cease
'Cause we be getting hyped to the sound of da police

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast

Now, here's a likkle truth open up your eye
While you're checking out the boom box, check the exercise
Take the word "Overseer," like a sample
Repeat it very quickly in a crew for example

Overseer, overseer, overseer, overseer
Officer, Officer, Officer, Officer, yeah, officer from overseer
You need a little clarity? Check the similarity

The overseer rode around the plantation
The officer is off patroling all the nation
The overseer couldn't stop you what you're doing
The officer will pull you over just when he's pursuing
The overseer had the right to get ill
And if you fought back, the overseer had the right to kill

The officer has the right to arrest
And if you fight back they put a hole in your chest
Woop, they both ride horses
After 400 years, I've got no choices

The police them have a little gun
So when I'm on the streets, I walk around with a bigger one
Woop, woop, I hear it all day
Just so they can run the light and be upon their way

Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast

Check out the message in a rough stylee
The real criminals are the COP
You check for undercover and the one PD
But just a mere Black man, them want check me
Them check out me car for it shine like the sun
But them jealous or them vexed 'cause them can't afford one

Black people still slaves up 'til today
But the Black police officer nah see it that way
Him want a salary, him want it
So he put on a badge and kill people for it

My grandfather had to deal with the cops
My great-grandfather dealt with the cops
My great-grandfather had to deal with the cops
And then my great, great, great, great, when it's gonna stop?

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast

Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed
Yes, indeed

Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da police
Woop, woop, that's the sound of da beast

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6cf5c41c2bf593d735defcafd1756d34

Return Of The Mecca - Lyrics - Pete Rock And Cl Smooth

Title: Return Of The Mecca
Artist: Pete Rock And Cl Smooth
Composer(s): Corey Penn, Peter Phillips

Lyric:
To know the truth is to know the self
To know the self is to know the Mecca
Mecca's not a state of mind or a place
Mecca is a way of life
It is the answer to all confusion
The attribute I'd die for
Abdullah Mohammed makes way
For the return of the Mecca, Salaam

Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca

Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca
Return of the Mecca

Be sure to export the hardcore that came before Columbus
Discover no other serve the soul on a dish
Okay means official, kid, not decrepit
Though the lyrical dynamo set the flow when I do so

Entice the price with the mic device
Hit ya slice so precise that you never hurt twice
Fierce how I pierce when you near the frontier
A world premiere so put the armor on your gear

The overlord aboard with the two-edged sword
Adored and restored, now the young gun toward
Preserve the herb, never kick it to the curb
Vocalize a verb, and the return of the word

Mecca, the reincarnated selector
From the whole agenda, something to remember
A richer voice than robbin' leach
I'll reach with a speech, no bleach so you can't impeach

Monumentally smooth, I'll prove it sincerely
To barely when you're near me clearly never sound weary
Maintain the gravity, assault and battery
So sweet the repeat you're bound to catch a cavity

My ability to wreck a facility
C.L.'s potential, smooth n' sequential
Deep in every measure, hit the lotto for the beggar
The midnight wrecker, return of the Mecca

Mecca
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
Come on
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

Uh, understand the Mecca in command
Part of the plan is the man who built the land he began
A scripture ripped out the piece of a scroll
Better the know, yes, a foretold, the beautiful and bold

Start 'em in harlem with the motto, the Apollo
Boogie to me, I'll swallow hollow when you follow
Stable like a turntable, lyrics I cradle
No fable, label, or one, my tongue around your navel

You're comin' to me so therefore the program's Mecca
The silhouette, a weirder fella, darker than Vanilla
Talkin' about the theoretical, isometrical
Alphabetical, rebel, a dissect-the-devil

Unveil a tale in detail, the third rail
Read it in Braille, a bigger male leave a trail
Now I sink you to the link, that'll make you think
You's too large to shrink, I need a drink

And toast to emperor, Mecca said to invent
To know of a child, work your wiles so surrender
And never to be lobotomized, the flexin' of the stanza
But you know the answer when I drop a proper grammar

Tabasco, the late show, flow to make a peso
I manage to do damage so, honey, get macco
Risen from the prison, the division, Black and Decker
Strictly for your pleasure, return of the Mecca

Mecca
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
Come on
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)

Ladies say, "Hi!" brothers say, "Oh!"
Ladies say, "Hi!" brothers say, "Oh!"
Ladies say, "Hi!" brothers say, "Oh!"

Oh, D off the black Baryshnikov
Takin' it up north, back and forth, never been soft
Bound to see me swollen like a Beethoven
Listen, wide open, never tokin', 'Do or die,' my slogan

Save the sarcasm, I'll hit you like a orgasm
Back off of that and maybe later let you pat 'em
Necessary for any adversary to worry
The legendary, primary, never secondary

Dip in Peru, overdue in Honolulu
Now'd if you knew the preview, could bubble like shampoo
Outclass the mass so we'll look in the hourglass
No time to waste for those in contrast

Like the New York philharmonic, sent to blow melodic
With the logic I hear like a narcotic
Put your best to rest, so get your bulletproof vest
I got the wild, wild west to your chest

You know the cause of death, so forget the autopsy
Another got sloppy so I lit it in Poppy
Smooth as Peabo, but don't like Lelo
For the grand finale I slip on like a Bally

C L and P R, categorizin' we are
The soul brother, Mecca lover, funky by far
The classic fantastic, rip it like elastic
Here to get drastic, return of the Mecca

Mecca
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
Come on
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
Okay, buddy
(Return of the Mecca)
It's like that
(Return of the Mecca)

[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
Come on
(Return of the Mecca)
[Incomprehensible]
(Return of the Mecca)
...

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4a1443e90594267b0c7b42e9a456eeae

Street Jeopardy - Lyrics - The Carnival - Wyclef Jean

Title: Street Jeopardy
Album: The Carnival
Artist: Wyclef Jean
Composer(s): John Forte, Jerry Duplessis, Nel Wyclef Jean

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Guys, you have to be more gangster, more blood
more gun talk, more people dying, more hardcore
Enough, come on, I'm not feeling it man
More, more, man, I got you, alright, come with it

?The million dollar question is
The million dollar question is street corner?
This is what he said

Have you ever heard the sound of a .44 at your door?
This is what I said, ?You got guns? I got guns?
Meet me at the corner store, this is what he said
What does it all mean? After school, wild wild west
Even the teacher got a vest, this is what I said

You can ask on the block, what does it all mean?
Street Jeopardy, here we go yo, here we go yo, here we go yo
Have you ever played Jeopardy, here we go yo, here we go yo
Here we go yo, here we go yo

Not me, it could never happen to me
Professor says, ?What you wanna do? Sell drugs or get a degree??
Looked at him and smiled with thirty two gold teeth
And said, ?What you make in a year, I make it in a week?
Elementary at the time, I don't think of gettin' caught

Sellin' with degrees, pickups at the seaport, come on
Once caught, you know the drill, it's military
I can't lie, it gets scary, you screamin' for your mommy, come on
Truth or dare, beware, the game is never fair
I'm fallin' and I can't get up like a dead hare

You stare like you seen me before
Yup, you put the gat to my gut, stuck me up in the truck
And said, "Don't nothin' move but the goods"
Caught an arrow in your back fuckin' wit Robin Hood

This street life'll get you if the hustle don't fit you
Paranoid crews don't choose, nigga stick you
Arms and foldin' macks to ya back tryin' a vick you
Belief in my crew wishin' foes never get through
And if so, shalom, bless my soul, I'm home
I lived my life to the fullest, neighborhoods now known

A stone face is outta place when discussin' BI
If I have a second thought, you ought not reply
I fought hot and sticky summers when the game started heatin'
Competition, mega jail, and the well, who was eatin', oh well
And every cell in the bang had a tenant
With each of them regrettin' they was in it

Have you ever heard the sound of a .44, at your door?
You got guns, I got guns
Meet me at the corner store, what does it all mean?
After school, wild wild west, even the teacher got a vest
You can ask, on the block, what does it all mean?

Street Jeopardy, here we go yo, here we go yo, here we go yo
It's a shame in the game when you lose
Son, they probably stoned ya today
Have you ever played Jeopardy? Here we go yo, here we go yo
Here we go yo, here we go yo, money doubles for your troubles
Though you lose some in the end it's all pain

Yeah, yeah, I got up, sunny day, Hood callin' my name
Strange, I feel nauseous, memories of a pine cauffin'
Seemed to me that I was dreamin'
I'd been struck by a crazed fan after the concert, damn
Slugs form and I hurt, hopped up, checked my physical

But the pain was all mental, I slipped into the shower
Hopped out, got dressed, hit the blocks, swarmed with cops
Mad shots, hot shells dropped

You ever heard the sound of a .44 at your door?
Before many times, I answered back with a milli
Now what? Now give me mine, it ain't no games like BDP
My nine meter go dang, hey, hey

Have you ever heard the sound of a .44, at your door?
You got guns, I got guns
Meet me at the corner store, what does it all mean?
After school, wild wild west, even the teacher got a vest
You can ask, on the block, what does it all mean?

Street Jeopardy, here we go yo, here we go yo, here we go yo
It's a shame in the game when you lose
Son, they probably stoned ya today
Have you ever played Jeopardy? Here we go yo, here we go yo
Here we go yo, here we go yo, money doubles for your troubles
Though you lose some in the end it's all pain

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0fbfeb9a4671878ad60642293320d7f4

In The Trunk - Lyrics - The Sound of Revenge - Chamillionaire

Title: In The Trunk
Album: The Sound of Revenge
Artist: Chamillionaire
Composer(s): A. Middleton, Hakeem Seriki

Lyric:
This is the sound of revenge
This is the sound of revenge

You in the presence of the finest
Chamillitary mayne, this for the streets
Let's give 'em somethin' they can bump in the trunk

At this point you should be turnin' your speakers up
Turn your speakers up Chamillionaire man
Let it bump, it's a southern thing
Ha ha, Chamillitary mayne

I heard somebody say that the South ain't got no lyricists
Well, bang, bang at the game like everyone down here is pissed
You lookin' for the truth then look no further, here it is
Turn it up a notch so they can not say they not hearin' this

They say Chamill is sick, click click, here's a clip
Bang bang at the rap game to make your spirits lift
And it seems to me the industry is all on Jigga's dick
Who? You, you, you, and you nigga, pick a click

Universal sent me to bring some realness to the industry
Got here then I realized that ain't nobody real but me
Okay, a couple niggaz but none of 'em real as me
Tell your favorite rapper he should diss me if he disagree

I bet I'm actin' like your favorite rapper isn't me
Tell your second favorite whose the best and show 'em a picture of me
He'd have to take me out to prove that he's as sick as me
So me verse me, the only battle that y'all gonna get to see

I'm plainly sayin' what I'm sayin' to make these haters mad
Perpetration hatin' ass, see me ridin' candy slab
Disbelieve his ass, how many vehicles can he have?
I be losin' count myself and I ain't even that bad at math

That's how we do it in Texas, poppin' trunk and grippin' wood
We reply to threats, nigga, I wish you would
You can keep on talkin' but that's only if you could
Gotta turn my speakers up, can you hear 'em now? No good

Ain't runnin' from a thang, 'cause I ain't never been a punk
Drama ain't a thang, 'cause I can bring it if they want
I'ma let it bang so they can feel it in the, in the trunk
You 'bout it wit'cha game, decide your rep and throw it up
What you tryin' to drank, 'cause I'ma 'bout to get you drunk
Keep it pimpin' mayne, so they can feel it in the, in the trunk

This for the street niggaz knowin' they gotta pee in a cup
Know your peace officer tossin' ya when he see the results
This for the G's, hate is what you see in the scope
Gauge gonna get sprayed like it's Raid when you see him approach

Tell you ahead of time, solo I can handle mine
You ain't too smart but play the part like you a pantomime
But you don't have a nine, I'll show you I hammer mine
Time to make you do the Running Man like it's Hammer Time

Shout out to the west and all my gangstas pack heat up
Actin' up and pack enough heat to make you back it up
The hoes back it up, soon as they hear the back of the trunk
Now I'ma stock like New York slang what you mean? that's what's up

Money stack it up when they feel they have enough
Get the chips and add 'em up, then she givin' that to us
Don't put all that in cuffs, treat your money like a slut
Niggaz better share, hell yeah, 'cause I just wanna cut

A hater gettin' cut, someone gon' get hurt
Especially if you met me and was disrespect turf
Houston, Texas I'm the worst, ice looking like sherbet
Bouncin' off my chest, you're starin' at it like a pervert

Mixtape God, don't hate me, go to church first
Might as well since all the rappers wearin' church shirts
Better think ahead of time, call yourself a nurse
Diss me in your second and you won't get to finish your third verse

Ain't runnin' from a thang, 'cause I ain't never been a punk
Drama ain't a thang, 'cause I can bring it if they want
I'ma let it bang so they can feel it in the, in the trunk
You 'bout it wit'cha game, decide your rep and throw it up
What you tryin' to drank, 'cause I'ma 'bout to get you drunk
Keep it pimpin' mayne, so they can feel it in the

You in the presence of the finest
The game is full of fakes, all these rappin' niggaz front
Controversy Sells, the industry givin 'em what they want
See he ain't gangsta as he say, that's why they dress 'em up
Get a vest, a plastic gun and go pull a publicity stunt

Hoe act like she slow, don't know that I'm rich
And ignore the handles missing from the do's of my whip
But then she saw me on TV and told me pause for a flick
What you tell her? You can "106 and park on my dick"

Can't speak about Texas and not mention me
'Cause the world gon' have to see the truth come out eventually
I'll rip any gimmick rapper out from A to Z
934-829 to the 2 if you still disagree

We never marry a hoe, what I'ma marry you fo'
I'm too busy tearin' my shows up and gettin' married to dough
Grave dig a nigga, Whatchu mean? I bury a flow
Run, go get your city, come back and then I'ma bury your area code

Ain't runnin' from a thang, 'cause I ain't never been a punk
Drama ain't a thang, 'cause I can bring it if they want
I'ma let it bang so they can feel it in the, in the trunk
You 'bout it wit'cha game, decide your rep and throw it up
What you tryin' to drank, 'cause I'ma 'bout to get you drunk
Keep it pimpin' mayne, so they can feel it in the, in the trunk

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a0a3435e5bc68cb1cef8b89714f0da3d

Bleeding Eyes - Lyrics - Masterplan - Masterplan

Title: Bleeding Eyes
Album: Masterplan
Artist: Masterplan
Composer(s): Ulrich Kusch, Roland Grapow, Jorn Lande

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Inside my camera is watching
Memorizing my view of earth
And stained is the eye
Ambitions not where they should be
Out of focus, too much fantasy
Within hides the dreamer

From the north to the desert sand
Chaos disturbed the land
And revelation was left behind us
Lost without a cry
A silent lullaby
And I'm waiting, waiting for the healer

I see with bleeding eyes
I carry the world on my shoulders
The load is heavy
And it's time for an awakening

The road is long, I've been told
But I think it's short
Time goes by and I wonder
How the world is taught

From the streets of Babylon
To the sound of a modern gun
I know the story but it doesn't come clean
I'm a superstitious man, fed the neon screen

Riding on the rise of tomorrow
Fading rainbow in the eyes of sorrow
I've read the script, rehearsed the dream
Faking death at the battle scene, yeah

I wanna change it
I wanna change it
I wanna change it
Rearrange it

I wanna change it
I wanna change it

I see with bleeding eyes
I carry the world on my shoulders
The load is heavy
And it's time for an awakening

The road is long, I've been told
But I think it's short
Time goes by and I wonder
How the world is taught

From the streets of Babylon
To the sound of a modern gun
I know the story but it doesn't come clean
I'm a superstitious man, fed the neon screen

Riding on the rise of tomorrow
Fading rainbow in the eyes of sorrow
I've read the script, rehearsed the dream, yeah
Faking death at the battle scene

From the streets of Babylon
To the sound of the modern gun
I know the story but it doesn't come clean
I'm a superstitious man, fed the neon screen

Riding on the rise of tomorrow
Fading rainbow in the eyes of sorrow
I've read the script, rehearsed the dream, yeah
Faking death at the battle scene

I see with bleeding eyes
I wanna change it
I wanna change it
I carry the world on my shoulders

I wanna change it
Rearrange it

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14ffe548a6d749cc5f6fcc141e7fe8cf

Lifestyles Of A Ghetto Child - Lyrics - M.O.P.

Title: Lifestyles Of A Ghetto Child
Artist: M.O.P.
Composer(s): Jonathan Burke, Jamal Grinnage, Eric Murry

Lyric:
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child

Watch your back, yo, kid, it's on, it's time on time
Take ten of theirs 'cuz they took one of mine
Them niggas sound sweet, ain't nothing
I think they packin' heat, ain't nothing we cuttin'

Nigga, get up, pick your motherfucking head up
Somebody gon' get whet up, does this look like a set up?
See that bitch over there? Yeah, she tryin' to get attention
Watch them niggas to your left, oh, see you mention and they flinchin'

Get down, hit the ground, goddamnn, my gun jammed
Why the Hill Street Blues make me refuse to leave my man?
Nigga, leave when I jump up and squeeze, nigga, breeze
Down upstairs, get Pacino and bees and more toast

They gettin' close, nigga, Larry
These niggas should be buried
The situation's a tough decision
I'm going to get some more ammunition
So we can continue this mission

Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child

Bring it to 'em, kid, catch them niggas before they slide
True dat, you get the front, I creep from the side
Take 'em down, soon as you hit the dough let your shit go
I figured that them young punks was scheming from the get go

Kill that noise, watch your back
Nigga, get back, Bill, where you at?
Over here kid, I spot him
Come on, but I'm comin' your way, kid

I got him, watch yourself, blowin' them herbs
What now? Let them slugs calm your nerves
Let's motivate, wait, Pacino still chasin'
We bringin' this home, leave him alone, kid, he lacin' 'em

That's how it is when it's time to roll
M.O.P. home never fold
They try to set us up, dumpin' you a sin
I'ma, chill, nigga, you know we gon' see them chumps again

Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child
Lifestyles of a ghetto
Lifestyles of a ghetto child

Five O, go, yo, stash the hammer
Where your's? I just left my shit right there under the bammer
Make moves, kid, it ain't no time for debatin'
Why go straight when you know the man gon' be waitin'?

Dip in the building, what if the door's locked?
Damn, we can't stop, the cops's surrounding the block
And them chumps are comin' fast
Nigga, dig up in the building, hit the hazard and bear last

Nigga, they right behind us, I ain't tryin' to get caught by the law
Oh, shit, they comin' in the building, open up the door
Hurry up, I ain't sittin' in no pen, nigga
Five O comin' it's us, let us in, nigga

Lock the door, cut them lights off, stash the crack
Crack the safe and see where them chumps is at
They all over the place and we facin' hard times at trial
Lifestyles of a ghetto child

Alright, now you two, come out with our hands up
I give you ten seconds, come out with our hands up
We got the place surrounded, don't run
[Incomprehensible] team respond, I need some back up down here
Send me some back up, I need some back up, damn it
Fuck 'em, yeah, fuck 'em, fuck 'em

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3a3e86fa60748066b946af111ea6fab7

I Got Next Neva Hadda Gun - Lyrics - I Got Next - Krs One

Title: I Got Next Neva Hadda Gun
Album: I Got Next
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): J Boxley, Lawrence Parker, Carlton Dougla Ridenhour, Eric Sadler, Hank Shocklee

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
It's meant to be evidently when I rock so eloquently
Put the beat on and let me kill another wack emcee
Can't trust them, never test me, I practice and study
But I'm not in it for the money, but to me they look so funny
You can't test the teacher, the teacher won't reach intact
Through the speaker you're weaker, now sit your ass in the back
My lyrical you hear it, you fear it, you can't get near it
'Cause the spirit eat Eric and Eric your rhymes is wack
Like that, that, right back

Check, check it out, check it like this
Just skills, you know you gots to build just skills
You know you gots to build just skills, uh come on get down
Just skills, you know we got to build just skills, come on get down

Yeah, uh come on, I got that rip track, flip that, underground rap
When I kick back, most of what I'm hearin' be weak
So I speak through beats and the streets as I teach
I impeach, through speech, each lyric leech I reach
Have a seat in the lecture nothin' can protect you
Hard is the texture of the mic wreckin' rock in your sector
Better than ever remember I am no beginner
I like to shout out Eric Skinner

Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills
A come on a get down
Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills
A come on a get down

Yo, we livin' in a world of private jets and limousine
The fruit we eatin' as we prepare tangerine to nectarine
See everybody livin' in the same routine
We need the telephone, and yes, we need the fax machine
You listen to the sound, well I think you know it's me
Now, let me educate you with my conscious poetry

Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
Me love, me love, me love, me love, me love it when it's bad
See if you wack rap you ought be steppin' out the back
See emcees on the microphone forgettin' that they black
See hear them kick the lyrics that are holdin' people back

But when you hear the teacher, KRS will find the track
You bound to see the light, and you don't want return back
So listen very closely to the secret scientist
I'm sending this one out to all my inner city kids
Now you supposed to be apostle what you have inside your head
Can make you more reliable, it can make you feel dead

Now listen very closely to the way I say this rhyme
It's the thing called the brain, and the thing called the mind
But I'm outta time

Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
No, you can't 'cause now you 'bouts to get done
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
No, you can't 'cause now you 'bouts to get done
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?

On the block you just yap a whole lot
About the clothes that you got, yo, or the gold that you got
Everybody sees all the friends in your Benz, yo, it's fat
But they ain't gettin' money like that
Word to my brother Kenny, jealous one envy
The rich are few, while the poor, many
But you got gold cuffs and cars and stuff
You eatin' well, but still in the ghetto you dwell

You know it's hot, so you make it known about your glock
To any perpetrator tryin' to blow up your spot
You grab the microphone and talk a good ramble
You the hardcore outlaw, criminal, vandal
Burnin' emcees like a candle, but you frontin'
You ain't got nothin', with your life you gamble
One day you gamble up snake eyes
Talkin' all that junk about you don't take dives, you take lives

Nobody on the block tries, 'cause you claim you got powerful ties
So at the red light you arrive
And to your surprise you get huffed up with just two steak knives
You're terrified, they take your Benz, and what makes things worse
You ain't got gun the first

Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
No, you can't 'cause now you 'bouts to get done
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
No, you can't 'cause now you 'bouts to get done
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?

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cbe908be917fa627f9d04b2386c1258d

Piggy Pie (Old School) - Lyrics - Insane Clown Posse

Title: Piggy Pie (Old School)
Artist: Insane Clown Posse
Composer(s): Mike E Clark, Joseph Utsler, Joseph Bruce

Lyric:
Once upon a time there were three little pigs
Who went out into the big world
To build their homes and seek their fortunes

The first little piggy, his house is made of wood
He lives in a chicken turkey piggy neighborhood
He likes to fuck his sister and drink his moonshine
A typical redneck filthy fuckin' swine

I rode into town with my axe in my holster
Everybody knows about the wicked piggy boaster
The sherrif at the border, he tried to take me out
I drew my axe with the quickness and cut his Adam's apple out

Walked in the village and to the piggy's place
He opened up his door and shot me in the face
It blew me off the porch and blew my head in half
But I'm a Juggalo, so it only made me laugh

Axe in hand, I rose like the dead
And swung with all my might, made a thump noise in his head
Since we out west, I grabbed a shotgun
And blew his fuckin tounge, out the back of his cranium

Three little piggies, to make a piggy pie
There's nothing like a sound, when you hear a piggy die
I might choose a gun, I might choose an axe
The Carnival's in town, come and get your piggy snacks

The second little piggy, his house is made of brick
And this little piggy is a mother fuckin' dick
He lays down his rules and reads you your rights
In that funny lookin' car with the little blinkin' lights

I drive a Volkswagon Bug, seventeen deep
Packed fulla Juggalos, lights out and we creep
To the piggy station and lay on the horn
First piggy out, we blow his lungs out his uniform

Now they in pursuit, like Starski and Hutch
But there's only two of them, the rest are out to lunch
They call up Dunkon Doughnuts to gather up the rest
Twenty five piggies with their bulletproof vests

We lead them on a chase, they bustin' off rounds
But now they all fucked, 'cuz we at the Carney grounds
And they gettin' swallowed by their very on greed
Dark Carnival and wicked clowns, 'cuz we need

Three little piggies, to make a piggy pie
There's nothing like a sound, when you hear a piggy die
I might choose a gun, I might choose an axe
The Carnival's in town, come and get your piggy snacks

Three little piggies, to make a piggy pie
There's nothing like a sound, when you hear a piggy die
I might choose a gun, I might choose an axe
The Carnival's in town, come and get your piggy snacks

The last little piggy, his house is made of gold
He lives in a mansion on his own private road
I started walking down it, the guard he told me wait
I snapped his fuckin' neck in two and slammed his nuts in the gate

'Cuz this little piggy must definitely die
[Incomprehensible] off and toss it in the sky
And then I watch the moon take the form of the devil
And pull it out the sky and beat it with a shovel

People in my city, they fightin' for their meals
He sleeps on a matress, stuffed with hundred dollar bills
A Richey is the devil, he never will admit it
So I'mma cut his hand off and slap his face wit' it

Opened up his door, he sleeping in his bed
I grabbed a brick of gold and smacked it upside his head
He begged for his life, I told him it's too late
And tied his neck in a knot and watch him suffocate 'cuz I need

Three little piggies, to make a piggy pie
There's nothing like a sound, when you hear a piggy die
I might choose a gun, I might choose an axe
The Carnival's in town, come and get your piggy snacks
...

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ce1bc0a5ff48cfa6d2712bc57ee0fcc3

Run Dem - Lyrics - Broken Silence - Foxy Brown

Title: Run Dem
Album: Broken Silence
Artist: Foxy Brown
Composer(s): Inga Marchand, Dave Willard Antho Kelly, Dameon Beckett

Lyric:
Whoa, a what de blood claat 'em fool 'em

Who the fuck told bitches they could do what I do?
All of a sudden all y'all bitches got accents too?
Bad gyal, bitches can't do the shit that I do
Sometime a gal figure it cool

I tell a motherfucker this
Some niggaz nowadays move worse than a bitch
And as for this chick, me love bum flick on bad man dick so
Got the pussy, I got the live fo'

I'm a grown ass bitch with my own ass shit
Now hear dis and I wan' chat me a go bustin' a secret
Y'all big botty man, ya have look man bottom
Pussy watchman, you a trace gyal patton

Fuck who, niggaz wish they could fuck me
Like they never seen a hot gyal act like we
Big bumba claat star, push hot car
Big hood, and love back way all day

The way my man fuck, can't even stand up
And when he gets stiff it cum like ten dicks
Take it through my hole right through my appendix
I got a message, why don't ch'all motherfuckers sit on this?

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

Out of all the broads in the game, Fox is the baddest
Picture me fuckin' with a nigga half my status
Bad gal bust big gun and no wan' see me back it
Move ya bumba hole, bwoy gwon mind ya jacket

How dare y'all motherfuckers even spit my name
Cool na man, 'fore I have you X'd out the game
And tell dem all you young pussy like sugar cane
And buck yat take beer owed by queer, oh dem where dat?

Bet you wish you lucked up, and got a quick nut
Wouldn't fuck you if I was horny, or pissy ass drunk
Lucky I don't fuck around and get you stuck up
Waitin' outside your studio, collect your dub bucks

Bitch, fuck around and get that nigga gun buck
Outsider fully loaded with the gun stashed up
In front of Cactus, chrome fo' fifth
And a bag of full clip for niggaz with loose lip

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

How many times I got to let y'all bitches know I'm
One of a kind, can't fuck with mines?
See when Fox in the place, pure hotness a gwan
When I bust wine we na watch ya face, gwan

Ya too fraud, sound ridiculous
I'm the only trini bitch that can kick yard shit
What you know about skin out and bruck out
Like a bad gyal bunny hot style, pop pure style

Look at this wannabes comin' around me
Sick of thes fake G's tryin' to clown me
Why these niggaz be tryin' to drown me?
I'm tellin' you fools no one can bound me

Look at this wannabe's comin' around me
Sick of thes fake G's tryin' to clown me
Why you niggaz be tryin' to drown me?
I'm tellin' you fools no one can bound me

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

From a puss hole, dis man we shot down
If a fass hole fi dead man we back down
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap down
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock down

I I Inga I I Inga, Fox Brown, Baby Cham
Look at this, on the beast
Loo-loo-look at this, on the beast
Come in the brown, ro-round me
Ro-round me, fake niggas, fake niggas

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b4c5b9e12706957c5f9e99bcf4c02fff

Bad Guys Always Die - Lyrics - Eminem

Title: Bad Guys Always Die
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Marshall Mathers, Melvin Bradford, Andre Young

Lyric:
The Wild Gotham
The Wild West
Ha ha, ride

All you see is the sun reflectin' off of the gun
I'm ready for the showdown that go down at one
Sweat on my brow, let's settle it now
I'ma show you how real cowboys get down

I'm polishin' gold, waitin' for this drama to unfold
I got a blunt rolled
Feelin' bold, gangsters blood runs cold
It's time to reload this old 45 colt

The wind's gusty, it's hot, muggy and dusty
Bust a couple shots make sure I'm not rusty
It's passed noon, he should be here soon
Sip a little moonshine inside a saloon

All of a sudden I can hear the sound of hoofs
Sounds like a thousand wolves
I cock back, put the toast in the holster and froze
I pose like a poster, he's closer than close

I hold the heat sturdy, I heard he fight's dirty
But I'ma put thirty inside him and leave early
And just when I went to fill him with hot lead
I put the gun to his head, and this is what he said

You never met me and you'll probably never see me again
But I know you, the name's Slim, you want revenge
Then don't shoot, I'm in the same boots as you
I'm tellin' the truth, I got a price on my head too
'Cause when you

You ride like a cowboy toward the sun
And life ain't fun when you're on the run
Got your gold and you got your gun
But life as an outlaw just begun

Got your shotgun by your side
Got your horse and you got your pride
You ride 'til there ain't no place to hide
It's sad 'cause the bad guys always die

He was 'Shady', I seen by the look on his face
He said take ten paces, shit, I took eight
Spun around and I aimed straight for the brain
My shit, went bang but it only fired a blank, he said
(You need bullets, hurry up run)

I put a clip in the gun and pointed at his lungs
We both drew at the same time and stood stunned
(Go ahead, shoot me, but I'm not the one you want)
I figured he was tellin' the truth that's why I didn't shoot
So what we gon' do, it's on you

(Do you recall when you and Snoop was a group?)
The Chronic
(Well, all we gotta do is find a map to part two)
(And plus I know who's got it)
Who?
(Some old dude, he's got 26 plaques and he already sold two)

Loaded up my saddle, got ready for battle
Hid two pieces of gold inside of my saddle
We rolled two miles until we hit the spot
An old ghost town that everybody forgot

A place where they used to smoke chronic a lot
Slim grabbed the shotgun
(Dre here's the plot)

This is the spot, they call him Doc Loveless
He's goin' around sayin' he took the game from us
(Let's shoot him in his kneecaps, he'll never see it comin')
But he ain't got no legs, they cut 'em off at the stomach

He's got mechanical legs, he spins webs
Plus he's well respected by the hip-hop heads
Our mission is to get him to stop layin' eggs
And we can put him on his back down a flight of steps

I drew two guns, spun them on my fingers
Kicked the swingin' doors in, started gun slinging
I could hear somebody singin', it sounded like a 'G Thang'
And a verse from 'Keep Their Heads Ringin''

I said, "It's Dre's Day", and started to spray
Against 1800, he pulls a AK
Hollow tips started flyin' every which way

That's when I seen Dre in trouble and came with the gauge
I fired the first shot, spun his body around
He hit the ground and landed upside down
Dre grabbed the map, the plaques and the gold
I grabbed two girlies and a blunt that's rolled

You ride like a cowboy toward the sun
And life ain't fun when you're on the run
Got your gold and you got your gun
But life as an outlaw just begun

Got your shotgun by your side
Got your horse and you got your pride
You ride 'til there ain't no place to hide
It's sad 'cause the bad guys always die

You ride like a cowboy toward the sun
And life ain't fun when you're on the run
Got your gold and you got your gun
But life as an outlaw just begun

Got your shotgun by your side
Got your horse and you got your pride
You ride 'til there ain't no place to hide
It's sad 'cause the bad guys always die

Always die
The Wild Gotham
The Wild West
Ha ha, ride

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1aea0e39bcdb3e96b8b055f30a6978d8

Madhouse - Lyrics - Bombshell Rocks

Title: Madhouse
Artist: Bombshell Rocks
Composer(s): Christian Maatta, Marten Cedergran, Richard Andersson

Lyric:
Step into the worldwide madhouse
Meet kings and fanatic believers
Come, play the game of chance among
Noble men and plain deceivers

It hits me with the speed of a bullet
That's just left the muzzle of a gun
And it's just like a roller coaster
Everything carries on

Outside the nightly traffic
And the sound of an ambulance
All I get is the feeling
I've caught the relevance

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

The neighborhood sleeps pretty unknowing
While madness surely wakes me up
The fear I feel, is it unfounded?
I'm awake watching madness nonstop

It hits me with the speed of a bullet
That's just left the muzzle of a gun
And it's just like a roller coaster
Everything carries on

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

It hits me with the speed of a bullet
That's just left the muzzle of a gun
And it's just like a roller coaster
Everything carries on

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

It's a madhouse
The battle begins
On my doorstep
Trying to get in

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2406c14892eb0f49e80c67cb736478a1

Tales Of The Funky - Lyrics - Sons Of The P - Digital Underground

Title: Tales Of The Funky
Album: Sons Of The P
Artist: Digital Underground
Composer(s): George Jr Clinton, Walter Morrison, Stuart Gordon, Edward E Cook, Garry M Shider

Lyric:
Funk is my mother, George is my father
Obsessed with creating another author
Now I remember back when everything was On the One
(Nah, they couldn't get none)

Let me take you back a little further than that
The Mothership connection and the rest of the pack
But think back, when Bootsy's Rubber Band hit the stage
With the star-shaped bass, he'd send the crowd into a rage

Stop, look up, and what do you see?
The Mothership landing in DC
So, yo, thank God for Parliament
Everybody funky knows that they was heaven sent

There's Michael Hampton at one end of the stage
Banging out Maggot Brain with Eddie Hazel
Yo, I remember that and you do too
He would always call the Mothership down for you

Ga-ga goo-ga, ga-ga goo-ga, ga-ga goo-ga
Yeah, you can do it, Humpty, don't be shy
But Shock G, come and reminisce with Shorty B
You know that I was born one of the Funkentelechy
Humpty-Hump and the Horny Horns why don't you blow for me

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

She said, I know the drummer can you let me in?
Tell the guitar player that I brought my friends
She was fine, sweet with a touch of class
No head, no backstage Pass

Funk used to be a bad word to you
I couldn't stop myself writing a funky rap or two
So free your dull-ass mind your funky ass will follow
Your funk is watered down, in other words it's kinda shallow

Get up to get down, I said I'd rather be with you
George and Bootsy, what a hell of a crew
But since you've been lost, yo, I've been so lost too
So Flash your lights in the air

And don't forget that the funk Mob is everywhere
Don't be standing on the verge of gettin' it on
And George'll be the first to tell you when the funk's gone
There's funk in everything you do so don't be stupid

You might imagine me funky though like Cupid
What is this? This is a tribute to the Mob
Devoid of funk so my set don't slop
I'm kind of cosmic like Vernon

I rap around the mic like Fuzzy
And like Starchild and Grady
I grab the funk by the neck and let it take me
To the Aqua boogie, with a giggle and squirm

And if you ain't funky you will learn
I confess you've got to clean your chest
And don't forget that everything is on the one

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

So would you, could you funk, do you wanna
And if I ask to funk are you gonna
Get stopped, cream always rises to the top
See pop ain't where I'm coming from

So haul to the left and don't forget to bring your Bop Gun
Do that stuff like you knew
(Shorty B)
And if you're down with the funk, that's me and you
And now that I just took you back to the future

It's time to wake you up so I begin to suture
Stitch you up, and then I mend your wounds
But red hot lover's got the loose booty
My lyrics amaze the vital juices, wanna do me

Like Too Short, too many funky words sooth me
(Yo, I'm tripping)
Trojan on my tip and won't trip
About the articulation from my lips
So here we go, I'm about to show

All the homies in the hood that I can flow
With the Underground, with the P-funk in the sound
And if it ain't gots the P it ain't down
I'm like Al Capone on the microphone

I'm blasting lyrics through your dome, all through your home
But like Ice Cube said, once again it's on
I won't bite though just to write a funky rhyme
I go platinum, for the very first time I wrote my rhyme

With the Parker, not Paisley
And if Prince is on my tip it don't phase me
I'm from the old school of funk
Yo, I got Knee-Deep bumping in my trunk
This is not a trivia or a quiz
I just put the funk back in showbiz, y'all

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky
Tales of the F U N K Y
Tales of the funky

Ain't nothing but a party, y'all, haha
Haha, once again, 1991, Shorty B
Hitting you off with mfstbc [unverified]
Still kicking it for the Acorn posse

Yeah, Jerry Hodge is in the booth kicking it
Yeah, wanna send a shout out to Shock G
'Cause without him there would be no me
And that's M E, and I'm O U T

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df0801eee53b95d9990eb9c1fcec283e

Release Pt. 1, 2 And 3 - Lyrics - Blackalicious

Title: Release Pt. 1, 2 And 3
Artist: Blackalicious
Composer(s): Xavier Lorenzo Mosley, Timothy Jerome Parker, Vincent Segal, Tom William Shimura, Saul Stacey Williams

Lyric:
(Release)
(Release)
(Release)

Prevalent melanin elephant bailin
And carrying sedatives that'll give average lettermen callouses
Wrecking with savageness, catalyst
Battling rappers'll stagger right after the dagger is left in it
Cherish ? (Release) Attica
Shatter your algebra with calculus (give it up)
Damage your pattern I'm pounding you so fabulous (give it up)
Enough is enough is enough and I'm busting up outta this shell
In eruption and rupture your structure the fuck with you (Release)
Up in you and cut you a costumer
Huffing and puffing, discussing absolutely nothing, disgusting
Plus I'm feeling me rushing up in your country percussion
No woman gets struck in the boundaries
Wake up if your lunging, I'm something, you're nothing (Release)
Now come see grunting, I'm hunting
For one emcees running
I'm stomping my foot through your army
They couldn't have stopped me with shoties
Oddity, why did he, why do these entire societies inside of societies
And survivors still remain alive (Release) emcees
Thriving to flow, opting to go
Five hundred and fifty-five syllables to go
Split em' with subliminal intentional dentinal pro
Unlimited flow unriveted, inhibited, vindited
Now you can't get rid of it like (Release) business
Magnificent, intimate, in it with, in a minute, gonna be in a nicks
In it with a gig, big fat heads like eggs Benedict
Pigs lick shit, rip with words in a bismol energy
It's time I society beats release

Inner breathlessness, outer restlessness
By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath
Grandma asked me what I'm running for
I guess I'm out for the same thing the sun is sunning for
What mothers birth their youngens for
And some say Jesus coming for
For all I know the earth is spinning slow
Suns at half mast 'cause masses ain't aglow
On bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree
I've made the forest suit me
Tables and chairs
Papers and prayers
Matter versus spirit
A metal ladder
A wooden cross
A plastic bottle of water
A mandala encased in glass
A spirit encased in flesh
Sound from shaped hollows
The thickest of mucus released from heightened passion
A man that cries in his sleep
A truth that has gone out of fashion
A mode of expression
A paint splattered wall
A carton of cigarettes
A bouquet of corpses
A dying forest
A nurtured garden
A privatized prison
A candle with a broken wick
A puddle that reflects the sun
A piece of paper with my name on it
I'm surrounded
I surrender
All
All that I am I have been
All I have been has been a long time coming
I am becoming all that I am
The spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute
Unheard, yet felt
A gathered wetness
A quiet moisture
Sound trapped in a bubble
Released into wind
Wind fellows and land merchants
We are history's detergent
Water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath
Articles amending death
These words are not tools of communication
They are shards of metal
Dropped from eight story windows
They are waterfalls and gas leaks
Aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf
The tools of a trade
Barbers barred, barred of barters
Catch phrases and misunderstandings
But they are not what I feel when I am alone
Surrounded by everything and nothing
And there isn't a word or phrase to be caught
A verse to be recited
A man to de-fill my being in those moments
I am blankness, the contained center of an "O"
The pyramidic containment of an "A"
I stand in the middle of all that I have learned
All that I have memorized
All that I've known by heart
Unable to reach any of it
There is no sadness
There is no bliss
It is a forgotten memory
A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking
There, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless
They are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness
But then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence
Who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas
Like dead rats held by their tails
So as not to infect this newly oiled skin
I can think of nothing heavier than an airplane
I can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal
I can think of nothing less likely to fly
There are no wings more weighted
I too have felt a heaviness
The stare of man guessing at my being
Yes I am homeless
A homeless man making offerings to the after-future
Sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles
A nation unified in exhale
A cloud of smoke
A native pipe ceremony
All the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps
Snow covered mountains
Lipsticks smeared and shriveled
Offerings to an afterworld
Tattoo guns and plastic wrappers
Broken zippers and dead eyed dolls
It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
I have seeded a forest of myself
Little books from tall trees
It matters not what this paper be made of
Give me notebooks made of human flesh
Dried on steel hooks and nooses
Make uses of use, uses of us
It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
I have seeded a forest of myself
Little books from tall trees
On bended knee
Prostrate before an altered tree
I've made the forest suit me
Tables and chairs
Papers and prayers
Matter vs. spirit, through meditation
I program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation

(Release)
(Release)
(Release)

The heaven-sent benevolent medicine man reverend
Peddling deliverance that resemble amphetamines to
The residents in the meadow of pestilence
Who developed a chemical dependence on pessimism, now
Is he is, or is he ain't
The most distinctive speaker seeping through your sleepy speakers
Yes he is, oh, yes indeed
So distinguished, so close some people think half (?)
Ain't no secret, people, trust me
It's mostly hustling
Moves me up strait
But just focus on the gun scene
Boasting and fussing
They both so unproductive
Suppose it go in my blood stream
Let me post this question
Ask anybody, just anybody
They'll tell you that the antibody to the petty
Potty mouth gots to be
Success at something
To be the best of something
And not to stress the dumb shit
Cause you ain't missing nothing
You got to

Motivate, accelerate, never wait, know your weight, throw away hate
Grow and make weight of your older dates
Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, and orchestrate fate
Just motivate, accelerate, never wait, show the way, no escape
Take hold and shift shape, live a longer day
Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, and orchestrate fate

Astrologist, colleges follow this through the metropolis
The dominant brown bomber, I'm in it, being prominent
Walking it, mean walking it, clean the scene, stalking it
Volcanic, got ya'll panicking, false canyon
And, awe wait, all day
Outlandish bandits be slandering what we mastering cause they can't catch us
They all pray for our downfall
Maybe one day, sike
You never get no balance if you're crooked so play right, snake
I'm mongoosing on you, stormtrooping through your form
Oncoming, enslaught, on one
Chopping you, I'll tomahawk, trauma hawk
On running (?), rocking shit 'till I was born
You're a Tom Thumb and I'm King Kong Bundy
Strong thunder, all summer long, keep on coming
Dawn, dusk, night, morning
I'll bust tight poems
Raw, just might (?) ya'll
With the white motive, motivation

Motivate, accelerate, never wait, know your weight, throw away hate
Grow and make weight of your older gates
Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, and orchestrate faith
Just motivate, accelerate, never wait, show the way, no escape
Take hold and shift shape, live a longer day
Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, and orchestrate faith

Play the MP3 online for free!

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