Featuring: Denise Weeks
[ Bizzy Bone "Chorus in background" ]
Turn my vocals up.....turn my vocals up, turn'em,
turn'em up, a little more Turn'em up a little
more, turn'em up a little, yeah there we go yeah,
uh yeah
[ Bizzy Bone ]
Born in the poverty probably we never get off the
monopoly, won't we just stop it with all the
monotony, look at me awkwardly hide my broccoli,
nigga what Fuck the media, how could you come to
me, follow me, bother me, tell me to simmer it
down Part of the system is worser now, melody
murder must've ran What if the rapture happens,
nigga just deeper than rapping vanish or not Never
gone change my style, I do what I wanna pop, 'til
the "Body Rot" stop Generation X, I am the
mastermind, general militants seven times,
revolution rebellious, totally out of line I still
in the mind of apocalyptic, biblical optimistic
Thank my lucky stars, never I say my graces, I'm
so thankful god Take me to the promise land, all I
see is cops with guns Soap in my sock, county
charges stuck in the struggle with number one
Never will have a friend like me, reality checking
the crooked judge Man because the rapping is over,
we fucking soldiers, we fucking thugs And ain't
nobody stopping my fucking drugs If I can melt
down the words, and put them in plastic sucks, rip
it to the nation, let it go what, what Bitch I
would speak your mind, even if they offended you
'cous Ride off in the sun set, with the streets
niggas 'cause that's who I love Standing next to
Capo twin towers shoot up to the heaven sky We
rolling down the ninety-five, take the bridge, I'm
ready to die..................
[ Bizzy Bone ]
For the grace of Capo... for the grace of Capo, in
the moment of silence, now the grace of Capo, in
the moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and
silence, and the demon malignancies, motherless
children are born, poppa the one who murdered her,
witness the vision first hand plumping master of
source of us
[ Jim Jones ]
[ Find more Lyrics at www.mp3lyrics.org/9cR ]
By the, grace of Capo, in the moment of silence,
in the mist of tyrants and violence, I'm flossing
my diamonds, by the grace of Capo, in he mist of
the hood, and it should be all good, But murders
go down, you know they go down
[ Jim Jones ]
Straight out the projects b, I'm telling ya'll it
was so hard for me (so hard) Coming up hard in
these Harlem streets, where niggas will starve,
cause it's hard to eat Some niggas will rob in the
hardcore streets, ridiculous all it's hard
concrete (watch it) Bitches the boosters the
credit card scammers, niggas that shoot cause they
all gone blame us People they shoot cause they
cocky 'bout scanners (scwalay!) So if watch where
the birds fly, (watch it) don't speed when you
swerve high Cause believe me the third eye, put
the squeeze on your whole ride (lock down) See I'm
always in the rear view, see the law in your rear
view (what else) pray to the lord he can hear you
(why) I'm the nigga on the corner, plus my niggas
on the corner bring same shit Three carry gripes
in the crime in heaven, I'm in this Fahrenheit
called 9/11 When I go to the cross roads, lord
knows Ferrari white, mean highway to heaven
(forgive them lord) And these digital times, we
all need to have a political mind (that's right)
Federology, technology, and we can shine like
astrology (they can see from the stars) When we
walking on eggshells, when you talk on next cells
(what happens) When you talking on fed cells
(listen to me) and we all on sex cells (whooo)
When the drugs and rock-n-roll, and when the drugs
lock your soul Don't blame it on 'caine, got rich
when the reggae came (that's right) Bill Clinton
rejuvenated us (yeah), all been the Bush's
hoovernated us (stupid) Police will soon be
chasing us (that's right), the streets they be
afraid of us (yeah) From cutting up raw, from
frying up coke, give a fuck about war We ain't
trying to voting (voting) So if you draft me jail
me (you hear that) Or better yet kill me (uh-huh)
'cause I rather go to hell b, and there's nothing
you can tell me Cause we risking ourselves, just
sit in the cell, over punk as nigga in cells
(damn) All the grief in the cells, spin on
shelves, I'm running out of time, cause I'm living
in hell (yeah)
[ Jim Jones ]
By the, grace of Capo in this moment of silence,
in the mist of the violence, the mist of tyrants,
Flossing my diamonds......yeah, by the grace of
Capos nigga, you heard, that's two strong armies
nigga Two under bosses we can't be stopped, we
will not be brought down like the twin towers We
some political soldiers ghettolutionists, we
freedom fighters |
