trading flesh for oil, you don't give a damn, we don't need your war, and we'll say it loud. put this shit out, of your head, tell your puppets, not
trading flesh for oil, you don't give a damn, we don't need your war, and we'll say it loud. put this shit out, of your head, tell your puppets, not to
me up now, it's okay to feel good I got a friend named Flow Who got a friend named Blow With a finger named Clap That'll leave you on the side like a
dark heart news [Rob Sonic:] Breathin's a tug of war Wet when I rust a ball Plus twenty nine bust gum stuck cluster door Slumped in the back burn +Bush
peaks I drill a hole in each ship so every last one sinks Save the natives from decimation, I stand beneath the sun A voice in my head tells me "You'
with a choice who stand down a threat the size of Oklahoma City just to listen to a young woman's voice here's a toast to all the folks on death row
wanna set us up, they never tough They ask me for a hook, I tell 'em left to right, head or gut What y'all messin' with is a nigga that'll leave you fubar
us Robocop boy, he's down with us Makin' funky music is a must I'm number one. People still takin' rappin' for a joke A passing hope or a phase with a
dollar bag Policeman ? Why mi fadda deya bush a press di seargant wid Legalize it, dem 'ave di permit fi green But di bigga heads dem a sell di weed
(feat. De La Soul, Mos Def) [Lee Majors] This is....a Bush Babee... Exclusive ya'll. De La, Bush Babees, yeah, yeah, check it! [Mos Def] Comin' wit
holes with a broken magic wand Strong Atoms, whole family dear To duplicate & recreate could take a light year Squeeze your head into a sneaker, lace your face Throw you in a
's Kitchen, time to get money finger itchin Once again plot thicken, and you succumb to the will of the slum bite your tongue Burn a bush with the Iron
He a fiend on the low shootin' blow with Meeka Yeah it's a crazy world, see how a baby curl When there's crack in the pregnant stomach of a baby girl
I take your mind and I smash it into plasma [gasp for air] Breathe like asthma, til your just a cadaver How fast this is, your faggot crew's a bunch
Dressed in all black, to start my sermon One heart of a merchant, one teeth of a priest The head of a monk, mixed in a bowl, with the 9/11 souls I see
crazy I loosing my mind 'cos the logic of the story is impossible to find Like a talking head I'm gonna making sense 'cos bad news is like sitting on a burning
fuck around, I eat out with your shorty with the crew and she be late for head, she want a tape and dreads and thought of you, a little stinger My shit
with their lives. But in Cairo, Sadat dies in a hail of automatic fire, from Brixton to Belfast riots rage and fires burn. The royal wedding of Prince