[Bronze Nazareth]
I’m a king with no wings, but we can box in one
I’m toxic, spun off the marksmen epiclotist
Ex-robbers, vile toting, swinging totem pole
Cobra ax flow, niggas spinning jacks slow
Government remote control, my brain power
Rain shower, man and gods, what’s the odds
Even I’m wrong, I’m still right, get large
Seven Wise hitman, hit squad, dip bars
In golden jars, I speak a sunshine flow
Serve a drumline slow, like gumbo
My music testifies, and if it’s not 5 mics
It’s atleast ten dimes
Throw a rope up to God, maybe you’ll climb this high
In the tree house, I’m tree’d out
Speak about something, to think about a bleed out
Flee to my house, hold a tree to my mouth
Inhale it, brain tsunami, hope your chain and all your property
Is enough to keep you, on top of the water
Shallow niggas sink deep, and there’s sharks in the water
Who run the soundboards, from here to abroad
While y’all niggas sleep as if the Lord had called, uh

Pick up the phone it’s ringing

[Bronze Nazareth]
Yo, I hit the smoke stacker like my bitch is battered
Pipe shatter like pipe dreams, splatter ya gray matter
When things get rough, pull something from my sleeve
Longer than Joker gun, keep hope alive
Leave with a Smoking Gunn, I discipate, eclipse the gate
Escape, then scrape the fishscale straight, move the plate
High maneuvers, blue street pie for dinner
Consider a sinner, simmer my lines like roaches shimmer
Leftover bread winner, alive in dead winter
My verses are like coke binges and broke windows
Tank poem, Donald Goines word flow
Lines likes be javelin, traveling to your ash urn
Wildlife’s trife arachnid’s trapped in amber, throw up
Razor blade’s like pregnant women woke up
The cloud’s weed smoke with the ozone I roll up
No one could sit on these schemes, with pitiful mean
Put you under hospital beams inaudible screams
My possible scam, a sonogram of modern man
Harbor G. Carver plans, why do we sit in stands?

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