(feat. Psycho) I'm wakin' up every morning to the same old shit Landlord straight bitchin' for a nigga to pay the rent My wife left me two years ago
A coward dies a thousand deaths A soldier dies but once Verse One: They say pussy and paper is poetry power and pistols Plottin on murderin motherfuckers
up to God quicker Who would figure that all I need was a hair trigger semi-automatic Mack 11 just to scare niggaz Pardon my thug poetry, but suckers
and scratched] [Verse One] Let's begin, what, where, why, or when will all be explained like instructions to a game See I'm not insane, in fact, I'm
as the brothers in Iraq War is wack, especially when you die in vain Bush invaded Panama, how can you really place blame on Hussein? Regardless of the name, the insane
I'm a villain I'm just chillin' like Bob Dylan I smoke cheeba it helps me with my brain I might be a little dusted but I'm not insane People come up to
Excuse me, excuse me I be the poetry man that was sent here by the WWBCC fanclub You called the number 1-900-GET-DA-BOOT and you asked the question What
West, pray to the East, the Sun don't rise, plant ya feet We eat ground turkey meat, carnivore was tranqued, original peachtree Drunk-ass poetry, in the
who you hang wit And piece like who you paint wit Everything is merging, no matter who you bank wit Imagery battle hymns, political poetry Platform show
killed the poetry of mine A long time ago - NOW How many times have you given me rage When your words were mendacious And your laughter insane, how
realized their needs Who don't need fear to pray and betray But they don`t accept us living free Believing what we need haven`t heard anything about poetry
stare into his nextone's eyes We killed the poetry around A long time ago How many times have you given me rage When your words were mendacious And your laughter insane
Listen 'cause this is the sound of a crucifix The U-N-H-O-L-Y's now in the looser mix Unholy's inside a me so I get homocidous The unholy poetry is for
much I need a brand new head I'm good as dead boy cause I'm almost dead When I kick it, I like my shit What, Wicket With the insane in the brain poetry
want a different color mink for everyday of the week Homey, don't speak on me I'm the one and only gift the Unholy poetry Poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry, poetry
dead WAKE THE DEAD I never fall back, I'm not a new jack I get to sayin' wicked shit and get a flashback I gotta unholy mind brain, money dollar insane poetry
And categorize me as a baby failing to realize how far away his mother is Our relationship hovered with strength, even though it's invisible Hard to quit hearing her poetry
