Forever ballin' Im jim jones With rims on that blue aston martin Interior like my skin tone Most of these rappers want me dead Shit I been goin' Two
his soft skin and new life Breathing, dreaming, fresh from God's eye Mommy's little survivor Like...her Mommy called crazy and scorned 'Cuz she two more
[Ghf] Yeah [RZA] Word... these bitches be buggin God Reason why ain't got nuttin to do with nuttin [Ghf] Yeah, check it out y'all one two
To the same world born two of a kind If it's on your mind, it'll be on mine 'cause I know you well Like the soil in the ground Grass grown in
throwing words to the wise, the first thing that you ever felt, inside and under your belt To a place that smothers children Caught the space between two
everlasting conquerors I AM, the original power of blackness The strength exampled, in our people as a whole I am the voice of unearthly soil Earth bound
waitin to do a drive-by So when you see the black 500 (what?) hide from it For every hundred MC's rhymin about birds Only about two-thirds'd really set
do a drive-by So when you see the black 500 (what?) hide from it For every hundred MC's rhymin about birds Only about two-thirds'd really set it without
your cryptic lies in my back, a friendship gets torn at the seams. The north winds blow, turning summer's rains into December's ice. Like the two seasons
splinters shot right out of my skin People barfed in the crowd; they were going insane And Rocky punched my nose-bone into my brain I was quivering and twitching when I soiled
pierce the skin With a wish it sinks within With the red of your blood and the red of mine Its flesh shall stain as wine Our love is greater than we two
demon fear Perhaps you'll think me superstitious but the physique of this place it hovers about me like a great body some diseased outer shell some decaying finite skin
to do a drive-by So when you see the black 500 (what?) hide from it For every hundred MC's rhymin about birds only about two-thirds'd really set it without
copper the clay the arsnic and tin Run in your blood and under your skin I'll leave the county behind I'm not coming back Oh follow me down cousin Jack. The soil
PLAYED IN AS CHILD WE WERE REAPING FOR ABEL WHEN HIS WICKED MACHINE CAME UPON US IN AMBUSH SPEEDING TOWARDS US DOWN THE STEEP HILLSIDE SKINNING THE SOIL