[00:00.00] 作词 : Manuu Rückert/Detleff Keller
[00:01.00] 作曲 : Manuu Rückert/Detleff Keller
[00:37.59]They say the mind is a terrible thing to waste
[00:40.23]So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place
[00:42.81]Get the time, I'm some kind of a lyrical great
[00:45.75]I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes
[00:48.43]Why you think I carry the weight? They got me very irate
[00:51.06]I make a classic, it's a habit how I bury these stakes
[00:53.78]You can't compare me to snakes, I never bite, I never crawl
[00:56.65]On the mic I'm something that you never saw, this is raw
[00:59.22]Y'all can't be serious, it's hilarious
[01:02.03]I leaves you bloody like the first man to have a period
[01:04.91]Period, I ain't gotta write no more
[01:07.32]But since the beat kinda nice I'm a write some more
[01:10.15]Fight your war for what? Little cash, little cheques?
[01:13.01]So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest?
[01:15.52]You a fag with a rep, I got shotties for your men
[01:18.25]If Obama don't get the spot, it's probably not for him
[01:21.20]Enough black men do good to only get shot
[01:23.67]That's why I'm good in the hood, I don't need to get the props
[01:26.35]I only need to get these thoughts off my brain
[01:28.71]Chopped let Juju Mob in the game
[01:43.17]Here comes the storm, get your talking on, sick nature back from the dead
[01:46.33]Like the mother****ers been reading the Necronomicon
[01:48.35]When the sick person is talking, I murder the market
[01:51.07]I'm a monster, kids trying to see me searching the closets
[01:53.82]If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers
[01:56.20]I'm sick, I kick in a ****ing door in and slap em out of pajamses
[01:59.44]Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing with cheetahs
[02:01.99]My face is the thesis to standing tall and my laces Adidas
[02:04.82]If I'm unlucky to ****
[02:05.98]I'm sick mother****er, plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves
[02:10.06]Half-steppers stay beneath me, the rap shit'll never leave me
[02:12.68]I'll bring thunder like Thor swinging his hammer to AC/DC
[02:15.75]**** you if you think this shit is improper
[02:18.07]While I'm lying rappers be pu***ng their keys thinking they're hustlers
[02:20.67]I'll show and prove, never do it for paper
[02:22.64]maker or move for Snowgoons and the nature, mother****er
[02:37.08]The mob remains, we was just in the shadows
[02:39.76]King of kings, Kamachi and Cauze, brother of pharaohs
[02:42.56]Cousins of killers, fathers of felons
[02:44.42]Don't like no shit around us, we'll abolish your section
[02:47.77]Got juice? You willl get bashed to a pulp
[02:50.65]Real talk, yeah since the status was cult
[02:53.19]Hundred and eighty-seven songs, that ain't half of my vault
[02:55.93]Hell froze, paved my way out on a path made of salt
[02:58.62]Me and Mach made of fire, ain't no patching the torch
[03:01.31]Pass out passing the pork, I'll splatter your thoughts
[03:03.94]West Philly where I rep, where my passage was taught
[03:06.57]Wilding up the block while grandaddy sat on the porch
[03:09.41]Watching the news with his back to the room
[03:12.11]I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb
[03:14.73]Now they selling the same shit, pop's style on the same strip
[03:17.76]Shower you, rhymes powerful as a cage kick
[03:20.49]Oh what a tangled web, I leave you maimed and dead
[03:23.38]Without a microphone I make you ****ing bang your head
[03:26.11]My anger's fed when I get some heat from wax
[03:28.47]Gatt**urg, woulda been a hit man, just learn to rap first
[03:31.34]Used to be a fat jerk, now I'm a skinny one
[03:33.98]One man, one gun, I go to war with anyone
[03:36.60]You **** with Juju Mob, that's asinine
[03:39.27]Won't have to rhyme, b***h we'll settle this by blasting nines

作词 : Manuu Rückert/Detleff Keller
作曲 : Manuu Rückert/Detleff Keller
They say the mind is a terrible thing to waste
So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place
Get the time, I'm some kind of a lyrical great
I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes
Why you think I carry the weight? They got me very irate
I make a classic, it's a habit how I bury these stakes
You can't compare me to snakes, I never bite, I never crawl
On the mic I'm something that you never saw, this is raw
Y'all can't be serious, it's hilarious
I leaves you bloody like the first man to have a period
Period, I ain't gotta write no more
But since the beat kinda nice I'm a write some more
Fight your war for what? Little cash, little cheques?
So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest?
You a fag with a rep, I got shotties for your men
If Obama don't get the spot, it's probably not for him
Enough black men do good to only get shot
That's why I'm good in the hood, I don't need to get the props
I only need to get these thoughts off my brain
Chopped let Juju Mob in the game
Here comes the storm, get your talking on, sick nature back from the dead
Like the mother****ers been reading the Necronomicon
When the sick person is talking, I murder the market
I'm a monster, kids trying to see me searching the closets
If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers
I'm sick, I kick in a ****ing door in and slap em out of pajamses
Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing with cheetahs
My face is the thesis to standing tall and my laces Adidas
If I'm unlucky to ****
I'm sick mother****er, plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves
Half-steppers stay beneath me, the rap shit'll never leave me
I'll bring thunder like Thor swinging his hammer to AC/DC
**** you if you think this shit is improper
While I'm lying rappers be pu***ng their keys thinking they're hustlers
I'll show and prove, never do it for paper
maker or move for Snowgoons and the nature, mother****er
The mob remains, we was just in the shadows
King of kings, Kamachi and Cauze, brother of pharaohs
Cousins of killers, fathers of felons
Don't like no shit around us, we'll abolish your section
Got juice? You willl get bashed to a pulp
Real talk, yeah since the status was cult
Hundred and eighty-seven songs, that ain't half of my vault
Hell froze, paved my way out on a path made of salt
Me and Mach made of fire, ain't no patching the torch
Pass out passing the pork, I'll splatter your thoughts
West Philly where I rep, where my passage was taught
Wilding up the block while grandaddy sat on the porch
Watching the news with his back to the room
I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb
Now they selling the same shit, pop's style on the same strip
Shower you, rhymes powerful as a cage kick
Oh what a tangled web, I leave you maimed and dead
Without a microphone I make you ****ing bang your head
My anger's fed when I get some heat from wax
Gatt**urg, woulda been a hit man, just learn to rap first
Used to be a fat jerk, now I'm a skinny one
One man, one gun, I go to war with anyone
You **** with Juju Mob, that's asinine
Won't have to rhyme, b***h we'll settle this by blasting nines