you know Rhyme Syndicate bosses Any show, any tour, we house program Donald-D is who I am, damn Attempt to do this, boy, you're takin' a risk 'Cause my voice
haunting my memory Music in the air I hear it ev'rywhere Rags, bones and old city songs Hear them, how they talk to me The organ grinder and his monkey
will remember that there is something happening in America That we are not as divided as our politics suggests That we are one people, we are one nation
that you never seen before I'm a fuck or nigga I done fucked ya I remember when I was just a little boy Watchin' moms play that organ with that big voice
like snitches out there droppin' dimes, Get yo' shit drawers up out my hamper, the survivalist represent the next black panther [Dee] I hang with blacks and you hang
voice you talk to me in treble I'm _Serious_ as Steady B so you know I ain't playin I'm stimulatin, makin crowds MOVE like organizations in Philly Keep
ass cops What we have here the chief embraces In his hands he pulls out two briefcases A picture popped up on computer One woman, one man, sharpshooter
flesh and bones +Organic Electricity+ chromosomes I'm home alone, but not by choice I pick up the phone and I hear a strange voice Hocus pocus, boogedy
God needed her to sing in heaven we'll meet again on that bright day [ organ ] A soft song fell within his hearing he picked our girl her soul her voice
I spits rhymes for thug cats, neighborhood drug rats Hardcore, keep it raw, what niggaz love that Stack the greenbacks and stay steady with the weed sack Spliff Star, one
money cry for us Creepin' through the halls on a keyboard Friendly blessed dress and all Fendi Voice rock don't offend me intimidation make Me blow for the station rep for one
Organization My nigga Big Pimp, Mr. G, Pimpin' Small, Da Burn One, Mr. Blue And you know last but not least the Haitian, you know One time
Chavel's, Caprice Classics.(musle cars) (E-40)- Not out of da' local news paper, but out da' AutoTrader. Cleaner, than virgin cuchie, my nigg', one owner
every night I open all the windows I let a cold dark wind blow through. I play loud organ music and I talk to myself and dream of you. uh oh! I hear voices
, name a nigga I couldn't burn and he probably created the Earth in six days I shot at Jesus with a tech fives times Hanging the pope with six strings
time for numbers now Can anybody count to ten?" A small voice cried "And how!" "Just watch" I cried, "before this class is done, I will count all of the children one by one
rhyming word being "groom" of course...] Both: Somebody somebody somebody somebody somebody--! Female Voices: Somebody get this wedding underway! Swedish Chef: Cus sue-one
pay for the girls you lay life's gonna hang you a bill one day before your freedom or your life get took get a girl, a wife or a playboy book one more