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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Teef's Theme |
Album: | | Genres: | Old School |
Year: | 2005 |
Length: | 177 sec |
Lyrics:
[Talib Kweli] I smoke the light bud watchin' Fight Club 'til I'm charged Like a suicide bomber off the words of Bin Laden My block got dark and mysterious movements I make the rebel music that the murderous move with Thief's theme, divine style like the Steam Team My rhyme style got me flossin' like my teeth clean I drop the kind of gem that make your mama eyes water This destiny like Nas' daughter Unfortunately, you met the predator that's stalking that's me I do it Travis Bickle style like 'You talkin' to me?' Walkin' with me you see the hand of God to force an MC Put it down so hard respect is like a boss in the street Workin' so hard that I talk in my sleep Brain still goin' still flowin' Watch the lyrics spill I fill with ill poems You 'bout to do it big we do it way bigger Razor blade spitter In the hood let my nigga Jae get ya
[J Hood] In the belly of the beast came a rebel named Joshua That always had intentions of blowin' and being popular Know when cops get buck, chumps get shook down With extra large shells now there go your critical breakdown Contemplatin' on chips and your ice But I hear pops saying 'You gotta do something positive with your life' I ain't your typical thug Leave you drippin' in blood From a long clip and a slug Hollow tips in your mug Peddlin' drugs, I've been immune to the drama Expressin' my persona Always raisin' up the scama I'm [?] with four strikes against me I'm the best ya'll dudes suck you still gotta convince me Peep your boy drop knowledge I ain't never went to college But I can teach how to get verbally demolished My flow polished with greatness My flow wear glow my hooptie got a lean And my bars done mean My and Talib will show you how to spit it Anybody could get it Spectators, broads and critics Don't be a statistic Of the murder rate Run up on ya, dim all lights, park and clap at your vertibrae
[Planet Asia] In the hood we them new gangsters Garage scientist gang Mind walkin' with a treacherous aim My strain potent Alchemy outspoken Out in the open Spittin' flame will have my mouth smokin' Powerful parts of osmosis Gasses, liquids, solids, ashes Transmute and my life flashes across Free from disguise of falseness But still I floss Never see me rockin' crosses With black heaters we rack cheetahs Wrap cheeba Black leaders all gathered 'round the black Jesus It's gospel when I write it down rain hail snow Earthquakes puts the faith back in my apostles Revolutionary gangstas techs squeeze murder beef K-I-N-G medallions Most wanted come close to (speak) Cowboys clappin' who carry no holster Don't approach us Cause that's when ya ending starts Heard the truth was power without a fight might bend ya heart Cause when the truth hurts -- that's when the cleansing starts Once knowledge is born I hit ten men with darts When the end is marked, I just settle the plot And when I score I'ma make sure I'm never forgot To every block, hood, ghetto and park I spit it sharp For the villains still running from Narcs
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