Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy I got demons runnin’ through my slate They like to creep when my thoughts get deep Scheemin’, trying to find a place to fit in And manifest itself in the form of a sin If I was Rin Tin Tin I’d rip the skin off of Lassie The shit you talk is idle threatening to blast me You high on gas like a rastaman farted Don’t set it off kid and get me started ‘Cause you’re highly reguarded when you’re dearly departed But momma’s still crying asking God Why in the world could you take her only child When you was frontin’ on the streets like you was buckwild To keep it real kid you gots to stay humble You can’t fumble and if you gots to rumble Then word to Bryant Gumble I’m a live for today And God bless the man that steps in my way ‘Cause if I said it somebody’s getting wetted So just keep your cool and everything’s copasetic Pull out your heater kid spit your razor And mine’ll still be the intellect that plays ya ‘Cause when the mic check I’m high tech skills are apparent You can play the child kid I’ll play the parent ‘Cause I ain’t responsible for your schooling But I won’t change your diapers or do your car pooling
CHORUS Get up I’ll break ya down a little somethin’ I’m fed up it’s time to go head huntin’ Dead up too many crews be frontin’ I’m fed up it’s time to go head huntin’ Get up I’ll break ya down a little somethin’ I’m fed up it’s time to go head huntin’ Dead up too many crews be frontin’ I’m fed up it’s time to go head huntin’
Lord have some mercy on my soul, whoa whoa
Now why everybody makin’ shit that’s unreal ‘Cause the A in man he wants mass appeal Forgettin’ all about how it’s supposed to feel Kids be going out for the record deal So if you pull out the clap then bust your cap Or I’m a make like the van and drop bomb on your gat But don’t snap ‘cause this ain’t HBO Kid you got no Benz plus you got no dough While you say that though you trying to gain that ho Used to be you had to rhyme about stuff you knew I don’t need MTV to make no bucks I rock styles that make you say ‘uh, who that was?’ Who that was is the many boy I was sending all star players straight back to the showers Fake hard rocks are really just cowards I master dub plates like my name’s Herb Powers I getcha open like huntin’ season I make papers don’t front on the reason ‘Cause I’m sizing up every day You say carpe dion I call’em like I see’em
CHORUS Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
|