[Intro]
And his own story was as curious as his narrative
The tale of his life is the tale of a writer of incredible vision
An astute analyst and pundit
A lyricist compassionate and callous
A reckless hedonist and disaffected malcontent
[Verse 1]
I spit that, Wonderama ****, me and my conglomerates
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest ****
Get that type of media coverage Obama get
Spit that Kurt Vonnegut
That blow your brain, Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana ****
Who gon' bring the game back?
Who gon' spit that Ramo on the train tracks?
That gold rope, that five-finger ring rap, running with my same pack
You can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at
Life is like a dice game
One roll could land you in jail or cutting cake, blowing kisses in the rice rain
Nice whip, nice chain, a closet of skulls
The stench is like slave blood at Providence Hall, yeah
They built my city on top of a grave
***** die, a nigga get high and watch the parade
Back in the early '90s, where they at, where they at
Get the gat, get the gat was a popular phrase
Bally Animals and Rugbys was a popular craze
This the vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave
I pave ways like Nat and Harriet
I blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in the chariot, uhh
I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains
Ain't a damn thing changed
And his own story was as curious as his narrative
The tale of his life is the tale of a writer of incredible vision
An astute analyst and pundit
A lyricist compassionate and callous
A reckless hedonist and disaffected malcontent
[Verse 1]
I spit that, Wonderama ****, me and my conglomerates
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest ****
Get that type of media coverage Obama get
Spit that Kurt Vonnegut
That blow your brain, Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana ****
Who gon' bring the game back?
Who gon' spit that Ramo on the train tracks?
That gold rope, that five-finger ring rap, running with my same pack
You can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at
Life is like a dice game
One roll could land you in jail or cutting cake, blowing kisses in the rice rain
Nice whip, nice chain, a closet of skulls
The stench is like slave blood at Providence Hall, yeah
They built my city on top of a grave
***** die, a nigga get high and watch the parade
Back in the early '90s, where they at, where they at
Get the gat, get the gat was a popular phrase
Bally Animals and Rugbys was a popular craze
This the vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave
I pave ways like Nat and Harriet
I blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in the chariot, uhh
I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains
Ain't a damn thing changed
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