People writing songs that voices never share And no one deared Disturb the sound of silence. Fools said i,you do not know Silence like a cancer grows
Miny-Mo, blow a nigga out his clothes Come out the trench-coat with a Sawed-Off, and lay me down a hoe So if you think ScareCrow ain't a gangsta come
on a humble Might get a stealth torpedo to make you tumble Cause hazard to ya hustle Knew it wasn't hard to touch you Especially when the bark, bark got a muzzle And make the sound
One with real eyes realize The rhythm of vision is a dancer And when he dance, it's always on the one Going down you can see sounds of silence Primal
a Lexus Truck With a white leather interior (I could) I could kill off some bears and dogs and shit Just to make you a fur coat I could love you and
answered Sexy rap niggaz needing a dancer, I'm cancer Kill you in a matter of days You's a durag nigga that I battled ya ways It's inclusive, or shake a
It's just a process of elimination I'd like to peel your eyelids back to see You always torment my own intentions Credibility is what you strip from me
Tang a run tings) Be the original G Rhymin' on timin' and in the place to be (Run blood claat tings) They love see me You're a crossbreed, I'm a knowledge
to make such a noise to understand the silence, Screaming like a jackass, ringing ears so you can't hear the silence Even when it's there. Like the wind
have a chance to live, muthafucka-now jeans in a perfect crease the homeboys say nicky give a speach money comes sweeter than a georgia peach and i'm talkin more shit in my k
a sanna-gram i been fond of fonics its ironic, even as an embryonic fathual and biblical, dont that sound biblical i been a terror since i terrorth up
Jefferson, Charleston, A.K., Jackie Rob, Clinton, Taft, Carver Lakeview, 1990, Wagner, Taihino, Harlem Verse 1: I don't care if you a old head,
ve got Weapon X from Canada, a.k.a. Wolverine You know the routine, his claws can rip rappers for days But here comes the Method Man, a.k.a. Johnny Blaze
a bloodbath Of cops, dyin' in L.A. Yo Dre, I got somethin' to say F**k tha police F**k tha police F**k tha police F**k tha police Example of scene
thought I'd be rappin, or even signed to Dre, I never been to New York, I had to find a way, So I dropped 40 bars on a clue mix tape, On a Birdman beat
a kiss me diss me mother fuking track you kiss my bitch and get dissed for pay back boy you a soldier grab your gat you sound like a girl are you ready
strong in your own kind of way Skip yippee I yay Speech on the telly spoiling christmas day Party broadcast saying the same thing in a different way Silence in the courtroom silence
this song to this kind of nigga 'cause number one, duke is drivin' in the motherfuckin' projects With a - with a Sebring, and with - with a rag off Y'
