i go to war with the people, sword at the steeple
praying to god, hand to my knees
wondering how I manage to damage emcees
sickly, flee quickly and leave the scene sticky
with blood stains, made man flying columbian drugtrades
stand in the street, hand on the heat..where the slugsraid
the planets defeat, mugshot capture my frame..
666 bible codes still didn't rapture the game..
cats mastered and slained... my presense is shook
cats flee after my name, ..is mentioned..
satanic weapons and juels stepping to fools
the second the tools spit, you'll get pulled by a fullclip
I let go, wearing exco...faded jeans and a fresh fro
yes yo...couldn't die, crossed the border to mexico
tossed some quarters to border patrol
went to live a new life
said lifes in the palm of ya hands, i rolled the two dice
double snake eyes, livin li vida loca where the fakes die
pentrate the 8 flys, bullet & strays
constrain eyes, flee back to the scene, weed stacks
g packs I'ma fiene, mami seen that...she's serene
wants the green back, I'm packing pistols
the raps official...I'm hiding from jakes..
concided in faith, turn myself in the bible
but I've delt with my rival so I started flippin through bible pages
closed my eyes, went through my survival stages
try to fade this...and theirs no question
I got the whole globe stressing this life...
soul searching - no virgin, standing next to my wife
but tight though...white grip let the fucking mic go
winter nights...summer days all together ice cold
white pole lethal jackets went to move up on some better tactics
from C.I.A, march 9th tried to track call it B.I day
bunch of joe schmoes and G.I janes
trying trace my calls, broke down the window
landlord had to replace the walls, left wifey
with white t, fresh pair of nike's ..told her to hold back
move weight in two eight's where she sold crack
it's back to the old rap, pullin my jeans up
sittin here in the clear messing with mean fucks
who keep theirs beans tucked in their toob socks
whenever they move rocks
got dudes watched by a crew and a few cops
on the strip, steal from they own man got the lockit took..
man noted discription kept it locked in his pocketbook
and rode by his family's house let the cannon b's out
hit em, granny, whole family lying in red..
got em fryed by the feds, stays wit a pen an a pad
no friends or a dad, sittin in the penidentary mad
no parole either, wholds the whole ether..nevers says much
final meal, cornbread and red tux
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=296648
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=296932
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