When you talk to the beat Keep your ear to the street Don’t be surprised if you get burned Putting your hand on the heat You best retreat, or accept defeat Get whipped up like a recipe Beaten mercilessly, it ain’t no referee To intervene, I’ll even haunt you in your dreams See if you really cut from a different cloth Start splitting you open at the seams I need paper by the reams More than I can stuff in my JNCO jeans I need the mic like a junkie fiends for the pipe Guess that means I need a hit, this shit is doper than life…
from curses to verses got some brothas in hearses an brothers that will snatch ur purses im a vistim to life the reaper almost caught me with the scythe
