|
(Slim Kid3) |
|
The way that momma raised us was pure faith |
|
So diablo wouldn't faze us or daze us |
|
Or lay us down to sleep |
|
Know the wolf from the sheep |
|
Or the sheep who cried wolf |
|
And threw the deadly hoof |
|
While the wolf was asleep |
|
I keep my mind a ghost |
|
Follow my heart the most |
|
Don't play fools too close |
|
Sleep with my eyes at post |
|
So Diablo won't be hostin the game of life |
|
The knife sits by throats of the young |
|
and blows death straight through the lungs |
|
as the mind gets washed by visions of sugar plums |
|
But we shall overcome cause we ain't dumb |
|
but we ain't smart, they got the girls by the hearts |
|
And the niggaz by the nuts |
|
Ear, tongue and butts |
|
Yeah, they're trying to fuck us up |
|
but, shit, you know what's up |
|
We gotta get with the movement |
|
and move men soon |
|
They consume every womb who bares |
|
beneath the stairs of their doom |
|
Best believe they're gonna shove em in a tomb |
|
Chorus: repeat 4X |
|
Cause Everytime I step to the microphone |
|
I put my soul on 2" reels |
|
That I don't even own |
|
(Bootie Brown) |
|
Early Saturday mornin I was cartoon gazin |
|
slowly broke into the kitchen |
|
to fill a bowl with some Raisin Bran |
|
as I ran up and down the TV stations |
|
I witnessed Indian Joe |
|
getting tricked out of this nation |
|
by a silly hillbilly |
|
who laughed as the shit happened |
|
Everything's the same |
|
the game continued into rappin |
|
Deception is at an all-time high |
|
You give a piece of your soul |
|
to receive some crumbs from the pie |
|
But you know I keep on rappin til the break of dawn |
|
even though it is my soul that I do not even own |
|
Chorus: repeat 4X |
|
(FatLip) |
|
I was po', nlack and broke |
|
beyond a shadow of a doubt |
|
Ass-out, wide open waitin for my shit to come on out |
|
Speakin about the time before I got signed |
|
I was coolin behind Coolio in the County Line |
|
My big brother used to say I was an asshole |
|
didn't graduate, couldn't handle the hassle |
|
of high school, why fool |
|
wit' foolish rules and guidelines |
|
fuck the cap and tassels |
|
said forget the trade and tried rhymes |
|
Hooked up with J-Swift, got with 2-4-2 |
|
me and my nigga L.A. Jay back at S.C.U. |
|
I grab the MIC one-time |
|
Check it, 1-2, we in |
|
freakin' major flavors with my fellow Nubians |
|
Takin shit to the next level |
|
Too bad I sold my soul to the fuckin devil |