Testi:
World Burns To Death The Black Hundreds

The wind blows hot dust into eyes, clogs nostrils with human soot Hell smells just like this? of death and sulfur burning The new wind silences the

dealin with death, in abundance Dirty guns and, the pungent smell, of those who fell Bodies, like commodoties, ready to sell Take you around the world

blooded, vultures Cold flooded, on streets, we control hundreds I drink coladas, but some of my niggaz roll blunted Ya man froze when I drove up, I symbolize death

don't stay wrapped in leathers and hats with feathers, I got all the ostriches actin jealous Track the trailers in chrome black Cateras Two hundred inch

Heeyo drama We bout to burn the muthafucking streets up with this shit Breakfast club I want to welcome everybody to the muthafuckin rap room This aint

Razah] Age of 12, I played with them brothers in hell Only role models that I had, was dead or in jail Crack sales make a black male, wanna be twelve Six hundred

Commando, styles thorough, solo inferno It burns slow, thermonuclear degrees Heads are underseas down to the youngest seeds Wannabes clone, they light like summer breeze Hundred

, she said no "Mrs.", you know, just Antie, y'know what I'm sayin' And uh, she said if anybody ever called her Auntie she'd burn The whole God damned

-B" Over doose rap get's ya off ya feet Jetty Jet, Black 5-8, under the seat Blowin trees, ready for beef You strapped with the world in my lap, ready