Single / Track
Black Christmas
Lyrics
Put me in the booth and
I'll brodie your wave files
You still getting booed at the
Open mic like 8 Mile
You still actin' like spoken word is serious
I laugh at you fag-niggas with
Dyed hair and pierced lips
What kinda nigga from the hood is you?
I could name fifty niggas that's
As good as you
But a nigga like Plan man I'm
Better than all of 'em i make em quit
Now their baby moms' is callin' for em
Askin me where they baby pop at
That nigga he at the sink
Cleanin' my White Sox hat, bitch!
I tell em call you back in a minute
Cause when he finish he gotta
Brush my dunks so vintage
I'm in this rap game for the spinach
My food-for-thought is like serving
Fresh lettuce to niggas
I'm the chef and I'm cooking up Def Jams
Broad street bully cut the
Check for ten grand
I made a promise that I never get high
I ain't scared of death
I'm scared to live wantin' to die
Cause the one-twenty opened my eyes
The Koran molded me
The Bible told me what's a disguise
But, I broke lights like they
Need to be fixed
And had a thought pattern process
That D and B's rich but, the block chirped
Hid work in the trash-can
I rip a nigga off and lay low in the badlands
(Let me get that, nigga)
Stay bent off of what poppy done sold me
We all forced to hold heat
Smokin the gold tree
So knowledge knowledge till
The seven-fifteen-four
Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Reef the Lost Cauze
Kamach, my nigga Crypt and Demoz
Apathy, Celph Titled and King Syze
We all 'bout to put this game in a frenzy
And the chain's slight frost like
The air in the Benzy
I can feel a breeze through the
Leaves when D's passin' me by
You can breathe you can bleed but please