[Hook: Bronze Nazareth]
Bronzeman's ill, fresh from the morgue
Spit fentanyl pills 'til you hang from the cord
KXNG Crooked's ill, fresh from the morgue
West Side's best, put your bets on the floor
My bitch, she's ill, fresh from the morgue
Gold with that chest with a 224
Yeah, you fall asleep like you rest in the morgue
I'mma keep it raw, change my lawn to a shore, nigga
[Verse 1: Bronze Nazareth]
Nigga, I'm ill, chains to the back of a gorilla
Records so sharp DJs scratch their finger
We chop trees, never yellin' "Timber"
Float off on leaves, cough and wheeze, a Magellan drifter
Off the Richter, scale triple-beam, coffin-lifter
Subliminal seminal, often lifted
Incredibly criminal, how it goes off on the discus
Breakfast is my lunch
The feds heard my song, now they wanna search my trunk
Told 'em, "Got that white in the sheets of that numb"
Photo-copied bright, I'm that sun in your palm
Turned 'em zombie-white like the sickness in the morn'
Impregnate the song
Molotov tossed, detonate, engulf my blogs
Take what I want, you niggas still beggin'
And I don't got no jewelry to flaunt, I bought a building
Sicilians and gold Brazilians over my lap like pavilions
If anyone dare touch 'em, they might as well commit 'em
That boy hit a citizen
Stretched out, will he live again?
Bronzeman's ill, fresh from the morgue
Spit fentanyl pills 'til you hang from the cord
KXNG Crooked's ill, fresh from the morgue
West Side's best, put your bets on the floor
My bitch, she's ill, fresh from the morgue
Gold with that chest with a 224
Yeah, you fall asleep like you rest in the morgue
I'mma keep it raw, change my lawn to a shore, nigga
[Verse 1: Bronze Nazareth]
Nigga, I'm ill, chains to the back of a gorilla
Records so sharp DJs scratch their finger
We chop trees, never yellin' "Timber"
Float off on leaves, cough and wheeze, a Magellan drifter
Off the Richter, scale triple-beam, coffin-lifter
Subliminal seminal, often lifted
Incredibly criminal, how it goes off on the discus
Breakfast is my lunch
The feds heard my song, now they wanna search my trunk
Told 'em, "Got that white in the sheets of that numb"
Photo-copied bright, I'm that sun in your palm
Turned 'em zombie-white like the sickness in the morn'
Impregnate the song
Molotov tossed, detonate, engulf my blogs
Take what I want, you niggas still beggin'
And I don't got no jewelry to flaunt, I bought a building
Sicilians and gold Brazilians over my lap like pavilions
If anyone dare touch 'em, they might as well commit 'em
That boy hit a citizen
Stretched out, will he live again?
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