and the burning kiss No longer need excuses Take my hand, I am here for you All is well, we've broken the spell Take my hand, I'll be there for you All
Перевод: Марк Кинг. Take My Hand.
in it, I win it The mission is music and rhythm Rhythm backed by words, all in my system System by techniques, techniques I got my heart in Heart into the music, music I take
Understand The knowledge at hand and believe this. CHORUS: Word up. We got my man Loafy in the house. My boy Chris My brother Lo-Dogg, My brother Fry My lady, T., My
posse I got the cards, so I'm dealing a death blow You're taking no crowns, put that on cease My DJ's name is Mark the 45 King to the posse Peace
am so outrageous I wear my pride on my sleeve like a bracelet If god had a iPod, I'd be on his playlist My phrases amazing, the faces and places, the favorite My
with the younger moon attained with love. It changed as almost strained amidst clear manna from above. I crucified my hate and held the word within my hand
Picture at the funeral No casket You bistards be missin' My jewels, my whip My rims we bitchin' My guns be the heat That'll make you blister My mens, my
the, the king They wanna be the, the, the king They wanna be the, the, the king They wanna be the, the, the king (king) Uh Inspired by Basquiat, my chariot
walk with my killas Mo you will never have a woman, yeah as long as I'm the dealer What you feelin', sure you want some I brought my slums, cats play
wants to be the king But it's all right though, I got my eyes on the prize Money in my draw, bigger picture in my eyes Hands around my testicles, little
harder Tryin' to not to take your bitch or tryin' to get rid of my own I've got Gucci's on my feet, diamonds on my neck Diamonds on my wrist, bitches on my
which one is harder Tryna not to take your bitch or tryna get rid of my own [Hook] I got Gucci's on my feet Diamonds on my neck Diamonds on my wrist Bitches on my
rubble Stay beatin niggaz brains out with the God broke belt buckle Jewels, pay respect to my larynx My bird blew niggaz away like a clarinet My hoes,
Peeped you insatiable urged to holla Out of my car insatiable urge to folla On my mark heart steady ready to go One shot at her first impressions steady my
heat You know who been the kings of the block, the kings of the drops The kings of the crap music and the kings of the cross ***, fire then, drop shit
my brother Lance said "Latifah you got to make them get up off their feet" So I put my rhyme to a DJ Mark beat Ample samples, this for example Are made by the 45 King
I speak the poetry dissing those who keep on quoting me Try to play me cease it, you don't know me So smile in my face, behind my back take a line
