reign, not in scorn or vain But to take on a name, that my pops chose for me Bloodstream full of indo, developing eyes Nine month process, infant size A prophet
. Than ill burn up these tapes like paper but for life decisions I needed tips like waiters got clips I waited and they both gave me props cleaned up
market of B-sheep, like I'm walking around the 39 thieves in a beat spores of a warm Helvetica brown proper for the odd gutter monster propped on the
gon' quit 'til you stop and say (No) 'Cause I get more (Ho) Than Hip-hop hooray I rock steady, steady rocks don't wanna box with God Because I'm cool, givin' props
tha beat up Killa You better spit too man Casa I'm in here man You made me go through all this shit mother fucker You better spit that shit Diplomats Jim Jones
?s 50 porch monkeys ate up at the same time Nasty Nas that, y?all gonna bow Holmes, this is Dow Jones 80 cal. chrome, needed time alone to zone The mack
I propped my eyes open with chemistry I've got a three hour drive and a man to see The blue bruised sky is closing in Cover up well because it looks like
the man in the starry tie led me talking backwards across the waving chips i spoke fantastic, like a prophet like a piece of blood where no doors are
If the world is nearly civilized Then I'm the red-haired faerie child Of whom the prophets prophesies Would bleed songs until the lyrics died But I've
So she clocked Storm over the head with my man Wyclef's guitar All silence is ceased, out of nowhere comes the Beast Versus Jeru the Damaja, the Black Prophet
the wine? We shall be underway On the by and by. Ahead one third Ahead two thirds Full ahead flank And out from the belly of the whale came a prophet
of the poor So tell me just how come were the Taliban Sat burning incense in Texas Roaming round in a Lexus Sittin? on six billion oil drums Down with the Dow Jones
fun, I riggedy-rhyme like no one I biggedy-bum riggedy-rush chiggedy-chumps, I'm savage I shake 'em up and down like the down jones average I'm cocky
One time Intro/chorus: das efx, miss jones Aiyo (yo), whut go around, no doubt come around Comes around, comes around Das efx we goin out, so yo bust
find the medium It rains, let it hail, don't front my shit is ill Tomorrow's on your voice mail, digest it like a pill Lost my jones for cigarettes, my
full of hoes that hate me But lately, it seems pople make the world go round From A's to Z, I break 'em down alphabetically Pethtically, I puts the pressure In ya Jones
to dream about rappin on Jenny Jones My city thowed stop actin lik u didnt kno Gettin rich n we still screamin "Gimme mo!" In the props gotta stay on
see demons in tha mirror, wicked as fuck feeling like a Murder & Killa, witness i'm on the defense like Johnny Cochran, NOW GIVE UP YO THANGS MISTA, before this glock hit the proper