Intro: killa sin, p.r.
Yeah, yeah, one, two, it out, yo 5 of consciousness right here You got your conscious, yeah know i'mean, up You got sub-conscious You got your You got your
*various by both*
[killa Yo, I forever ready dunn, Money run gun the pelly, kind of heavy Pretty pearl, tickle my belly, but steady by the Thirsty to dump but twice before I took time to waist None un-mine in his swine, I let him live now hop he what he did you've got a child on the line and I got time for no pen See battle up to warn the squad, bars on my crib With guns drawn, seekin killa sin who done slid moons ago, across town whereabouts Unknown heights blaring loud out, you, me like who gives a I puff a bone, a suspect, I'll never be sees everything, bad boy silence is the key to longevity So, take this advice, while I reiterate the thought to take life And I
[p.r. Magazines at homocide scenes, living of rhyming schemes Always had dreams to be and meanwhile had to blow trial Not put in foul like the rest of them, with blade infected guns Had to my back when I shit and piss, niggaz busting nuts at ceo's Leaving maternals frisked, faces derenched, buck 50 Your face get lifted and you shift into another facility shit, back in the world, I stand strong and watch the weak curl >from the pressure of life, career endeavor The knowledge, and my name is straight terror Killarmy running your whole fucking era With stages of consciousness, we swiftly change like the weather And control forecast, rough traffic, off the pad, in the act Your to subjects just like math, ram you off in the first half This quarter wont last, your leaning on the trigger, guns Blaow, super-conscious leaves track smashed
9] Harpoons for hard times, kid, going through this difficult You gotta maintain, cope the stress and pain Still in seek of the that blocks out the rain A thirty down in the flesh, my mental Took to time to explain The duty of a wise man, to the minds, some will this physical, mental, will and emotion The aquizations to my infinite devotions is to seek the onslaught, cause we express thoughts To the seeds the wrong foods, that made them with knots My dude is to and penalize were cutting them, they must of got stregthalized I take it upon myself to the disguise You fucking snake, I tie you to the graphite, If now to live, you would to strike I no time now searching for a mystery With every five thousand, we renew our history We be the gods, the asiatic black men, and not We actually run this shit and
*martial art
Aiyyo, three years trapped in the belly of the Got me on some, fuck the large, the fed coats Fuck the judges, cause don't give two shits about us man, woman and child, how were living over here Trapped in the worst part, when things this happen on the regular Innocent bystanders get trapped off on the streets of my stomping With war pops off, wine bottles on the regular Like work to be specific
[9th The general out in fatigues, mentally for life I bleed And promised to feed the deceased, was the supreme general in the Little intelligent little bug, roll with thugs that sold to survive Civilized the eighty-five and saved lives But these head niggaz dealt with the four devils Ceased the and broke the God down physically down to another level Madman at his weight, the great pass the weight a smile on his face, I swear if you was hear These pussy niggaz get tourtured, while I stick up their noses And cut of their ears, even family memeber swill have to pay Brothers, mothers, sisters and get manslaughtered the right way We're not dealing with feelings, I spare the Weak niggaz get destroyed, niggaz is building Revenge the general, thats I quote and tape up grenades to your head And watch your explode
assasson] Yo, yo, I sling horse slang like Rebel dope that your brain a shot of novacainne In your death you will feel no I should teach you with my And the clip was Snakes speak lies and words is venomous Wu hits come continouscause I give a fuck about '97 Ain't feelin See what I'm revealin is the In fact be the proof The youth be the And the be the roots I solid, under firment This black man be the garment These be the for my testament Writen of the thought That makes me give props and sell tapes catacrops Mother