It's ninety-six degrees in the shade... Before I catch blood on my blade.
On the square...I'm not riffin' like Andy Griffith, Just fed up, goin' head up, with competition.
Keep my planets in orbit, Never forfeit or quit, Move forward... I talk with the awkward slang, I walk with the Wu-Tang.
Bass! How low can you go? Death row...what a brother know. Once again, back is the incredible, The rhyme animal, the uncannable "D!" Public Enemy Number One. Five-O said, "Freeze!" and I got numb. Can I tell 'em that I really never had a gun? But it's the wax that the Terminator X spun.
Set me up, wet me up, niggas stuck me up... Heard the guns bust, but you tricks never shut me up.
You know the wisdom is reflected in the knowledge when it's manifested; If not fed in due time, the mind is anorexic.
Nowadays rap artists coming half-hearted, Commercial like pop, or underground like black markets. Where were you the day hip-hop died? Is it too early to mourn? Is it too late to ride?
Me and Frosted went to get a drink. But she ordered somethin' bugged, and I ain't know what to think. She ordered potassium, calcium, Carbohydrate, scotch with sodium. She took me to her crib, threw me on the couch... I woke up the next morning with a spoon in my mouth.
So lovers of life, don't keep your hopes up high. Why? Cause it's just a matter of time before it's your turn to die. But until then, when you stop breathin', It's time to stand up and fight for what you believe in!
I remember when I fell from my first bike: There were no 'Are you okays?' and rarely 'Are you alrights?' Just dirt in my pockets, handful of gravel... That's when I realized that getting up is only half the battle.
Slim Shady: Hotter then a set of twin babies In a Mercedes Benz, with the windows up When the temp goes up to the mid 80's.
I'm not a sucka, so I don't need a bodyguard.
The principles of true hip-hop have been forsaken, It's all contractual and about money makin'.
I got 304's in 310 on Section 8, with multiple 187's... Sport a Marilyn Manson t-shirt when I die and go to heaven.
Let me break it down for you again, You know I only say it because I'm truly genuine: Don't be a hard rock when you really are a gem.
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid.
Everybody's got opinions on the way you're livin', But see, they can't fill your shoes.
Niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the C.R.E.A.M.
Beef is best served like steak: Well done, get a gun in ya face.
The line between playing to win and sin is thin, But I walk it with grace and I talk it with taste. I am that raw, simply put, and I rest my case.
Deja vu, tell you what I'm gonna do, when they reminisce over you, my God.
God works in different ways and it shows... And everybody knows, love comes and goes.
I got a funny feeling like something was real wrong... Looked at her shoes and her feets was real long! Then it hit me, Oh please God no, Don't let this ho turn out to be a John Doe... He pulled a fast one on me, yo!
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul, this is gospel This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal. This is church front pew, Amen, pulpit, What my people need and the opposite of bullshit.
Using numerology to count the people I sent to heaven, Produces more digits than 22 divided by 7.
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