[Verse 1: Salute Da Kidd]
It's the Desert E's toker, the ganj' smoker
Not close to mediocre, the black cobra .9 loader
Damage your lungs, put you closer to Jehovah
Witness this outrage sharper than blades
I punish with my AKs to doctor your face
I ain't tryna lose the buckle when I reach for the waist
'What's the problem?' ain't no thing to turn a human to waste
Stay in your place, or catch the bayonet in your face
Outer space with this method, Kevlaar chested
Return of the 'Motherless Child', mind infected
'Tales from the Crypt' like Russell Jones resurrected
Death wish stepkid, dirty as the septic
[Verse 2: Bronze Nazareth]
My cyclone poem, fix the roof of the Superdome
You crash your plane in my building, just tryna get on
And it's a vein, cold rain, write my words in propane
Keep the, heat in store, like the stones in Maytag
Carry more blades than grass in your yard, grab your rake
I'm original, man on the take, burning the shake
Roll 'em, blow, the solar fails out the blood bank
The Wu-Fam armory, my beats got bodies
Know the rolly when to grave with the tip of a shotty
Pasadena lobby, bullet holes from robbery, probably
Veins made of cobblestone, bitches go home wobbly
Capture life like photographs, double stuff hash
Pure mid-serious grim, with verbal whiplash
From the fetus to the overseer, I bleed it
Nigga, your crime'll Crystal Mountain, just to try to go see it
My life is a movie script, John Singleton reading
The blood flow like magnum, harder then traps in Eden
Send shockwaves, I circles, some objects dropped in lakes
I spray phrases, til the brain can't operate
Discombobulate, the populate, Texas Chainsaw lock your grip
Counter row, Wu symbol conglomerate
Team I'd rather far, than be spit in the face
Jesus asked God when I'm dropping my next tape
Nigga, Bronze colored disc, razor blade shape
It's the Desert E's toker, the ganj' smoker
Not close to mediocre, the black cobra .9 loader
Damage your lungs, put you closer to Jehovah
Witness this outrage sharper than blades
I punish with my AKs to doctor your face
I ain't tryna lose the buckle when I reach for the waist
'What's the problem?' ain't no thing to turn a human to waste
Stay in your place, or catch the bayonet in your face
Outer space with this method, Kevlaar chested
Return of the 'Motherless Child', mind infected
'Tales from the Crypt' like Russell Jones resurrected
Death wish stepkid, dirty as the septic
[Verse 2: Bronze Nazareth]
My cyclone poem, fix the roof of the Superdome
You crash your plane in my building, just tryna get on
And it's a vein, cold rain, write my words in propane
Keep the, heat in store, like the stones in Maytag
Carry more blades than grass in your yard, grab your rake
I'm original, man on the take, burning the shake
Roll 'em, blow, the solar fails out the blood bank
The Wu-Fam armory, my beats got bodies
Know the rolly when to grave with the tip of a shotty
Pasadena lobby, bullet holes from robbery, probably
Veins made of cobblestone, bitches go home wobbly
Capture life like photographs, double stuff hash
Pure mid-serious grim, with verbal whiplash
From the fetus to the overseer, I bleed it
Nigga, your crime'll Crystal Mountain, just to try to go see it
My life is a movie script, John Singleton reading
The blood flow like magnum, harder then traps in Eden
Send shockwaves, I circles, some objects dropped in lakes
I spray phrases, til the brain can't operate
Discombobulate, the populate, Texas Chainsaw lock your grip
Counter row, Wu symbol conglomerate
Team I'd rather far, than be spit in the face
Jesus asked God when I'm dropping my next tape
Nigga, Bronze colored disc, razor blade shape
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