Originally Posted by SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS
Flip them widgets I want them digits
Skip the digital give me that mass appeal analog/
Lyrical arsenal spark ya articles write cha bars
Showing eím I can still get nautical wit my nature/
Evade cha like the military regime call me a military machine
Howís cha wisdom when you ainít gain no attention/
Even if Iíve been apprehended
My lyrics will never stop being penned/
Before I die and go to heaven, to see my ending
I want my lyrics to become my weapon of mass destruction/
Iím uplifted and gifted when Iím gear shifting
Spit it wicked cuz Iím sick wit it/
Hold cha horses, put cha tracks on pauses
When ya hear me spit run to the store and get my shit/
Now you got Tech grinding spit out cha spine and
When ya hear ya body tingling migrate to the box
And pump up the volume/
Hear the crowd howling n wolfing
Now we scraping ready to feast/
Iím the under thirty gunner
Hold the weight solider
Flow wit cha brothers/
Leave you wanna beís running for cover
When thunder and lighting coming for ya/
Her heritage was a village for the starving kids..
She labeled me a shogun trapped in showbiz..
then i was living single wit no wiz..
1 bedroom apartment wit no fridge..
We used to split 20 dollar bills down the middle..
Music was my love, a thug puzzled by the riddle..
Would kick flows since i was little..
But for a while the streets got 2 me..
Carrying an semi- auto, in the lab writing my auto-biography..
Far from me she stayed, by the gangsters she was praised..
Hood raised, wild child type..churches couldn't save..
Purse phat from drug-plays..Baby phat tights exposing her waist..
What a waste trying to hollar.. her motto was chasing dollars..
materialistic statistic..only clothes she wore Gucci, and Prada..
Devil got her in a blue dress..know she's an enemy of the dark-man..
A new world order slave, enslaved to degrade herself at any given chance..