Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe When Im deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly Im grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile Rooster heads profile on a bus to Rikers Isle Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the pretty things in life, props is a true thugs wife Its like a cycle, niggaz come home, somell go in Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable Guns salute life, rapidly, thats the ritual (Nasir Jones)
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 22:50:28 +0000
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