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Blaze'in Microphones
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T-bone
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1
Im sweet like cinnamon when Im spittin this lyrical venum,
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giving rappers the blues like denim,
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when Im killin em, fillin em with these syllable,
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synonyms of adrenaline spillin off my spiritual tongue,
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then numbing em like penicillin,
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plus Im trying to reach the lost like Gilligan,
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God willin the spiritual healin, will stop the drug dealing,
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and killing, because Im feeling like Im ready to loose my mind,
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so many bullets be flying, and rydas be dying,
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gotta make a difference, for instance, the inmates in prisons make bad decisions,
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for lack of wisdom, so I cut them open, and make incisions,
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fill em with spiritualism, tell em about the one thats arisen,
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how they can be free in they spirit, and have they sins forgiven,
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by the one who died on the cross,
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'cause even when they were into all their drinking and smoking,
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he loved them even while they were lost,
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so please listen to me, and stop dissin a G,
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'cause I got they remedy on how yall can be free.
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[Hook]
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Blazing microphones, bringing nothing but that heat from the west coast,
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Chase beats, Bone lyrics like Vito Corleone,
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we be running things so act like you all know,
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Boneyard cant be stopped now.
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Im not a Jehovah witness, but I witness for Jehovah,
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back in the day, the 1st to slang cane and the baking soda,
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but nowadays, I like preachin the word,
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like a drug dealers, slangin; holy rock on the curb,
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eyes blurred off the holy ghost, contact smoke,
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gotcha tripppin off my rims, crush eyes and my rope,
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plus Im gifted with flows and wrist is frozen,
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I thought you all knew dawg, what, Im Gods chosen,
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highly favored, standing with the elite,
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thats stand apart dawg, anointed, bring the word to the streets,
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aint into entertainin the the fame or set you claimin,
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tha game of namin, unless the name Im naming
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is Jesus on the throne and reining, painting a picture for Gs bangin,
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og how the Lord can save em, train em like a Baltimore Raven, engraving,
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the name of Jesus across they heart, 'cause its breakin,
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plus Satan is waitin, anticipatin, and hatin,
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but once they trapped they's no escapin'
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[Hook]
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I been doing this for 12 years, it aint easy yall,
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to make hit records that are off the hizzy yall,
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especially when them bustas sippin on that haterade,
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talkin behind your back and trying to stop you on a day to day,
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I dont make music for em playa hatas anyway,
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this is for killers and thugs, thats sippin on the Alize,
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run a ways and essays locked down in prison,
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why them, they the ones in need of a physician,
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and I know the perfect doctor yall
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that can heal you when you answer to the alter call,
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he can, fill all the emptiness and void in your heart,
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thats why I rhyme out of a need and not love of the art,
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so listen, my only mission is soul fishing,
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so when the rapture happens, faces will be on the back of milk cartons missing.
8 Letters - Why Don't We [Official Music...
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