lirik lagu bless picasso - paper spiders
[intro: kool g rap]
yeah, y’all know what it is, man
bless picasso
the ferocious kgr
you know what it do
[verse 1: kool g rap & conway the machine]
(uh) whole world goin’ crazy (crazy)
balance in haiti to the dried~up euphrates
when they say peace [?] people pushin’ daisies (daisies)
fascinated, givin’ birth to black~eyed babies (for real)
beginnin’ of sorrow’s clearly what we livin’ in
blood~red rivers and lakes with nutn swimmin’ in
brick covers [?] crash gon’ finish men (finish men)
skinny and thin n~gga, whole body diminishin’
feel for the beats, two degrees, gangs rule the streets
what i foresee’s a whole lotta eulogies
[?] cruelty, n~ggas k!llin’ for food to eat
[?] as well as they broke inside the zoo to feast
military teams sweep a whole buildin’ clean (clean)
faced with them guillotines, n~ggas gon’ spill the beans (uh)
don’t even think that you can split the scene
your grip is mean, stretched from the strips (yeah) in queens to the phillipines
[verse 2: conway the machine & bless picasso]
still be on go time, still be on g missions (huh)
still got the dope in the kitchen, boy, remixin’ (whip)
used to fiends standin’ at the back window, t~~th missin’ (haha)
now, it’s g~wagens with the amg deep dishes
(talk to these n~ggas, king) yeah, look
million~dollar trap phone (yeah)
the lamborghini truck [?] chrome (vroom)
the devil’s reject—boy, i’m back in that zone (ah)
put him in a wheelchair forever; shot his backbone (boom boom boom boom) ([?]) (real)
[verse 3: bless picasso]
my og got more time than taxstone (for real)
was sellin’ white squares; they were black~owned (uh~huh)
the sawed~off mossberg long as a [?] (blaow)
built a new crib and traded brick for the black stone (woo)
the sixteenth letter, no guy fresher (uh~huh)
the pie~stretcher and pyrex couldn’t measure the weight
versace plates with the gold trim (mm)
a skull fractured by some old timbs; broke in spots and stole [?]
sold ’em on the block, not the p~wn shop (what we doin’ now?)
850 with roof chop; sold bud out a shoebox
a new watch; i set in on european time
only chat about the cash; all else is tmi
what i fly: american, first class, no sharin’ tints
got [?] mixin’ [?] with the peach; that’s the regiment
in maryland, i’m watchin’ ’em box right by the harbor (mm)
starter hat flipped to the back; they tried to starve us (right)
live from the corner where pookie died
really ain’t n0body else to blame; it’s you and i—it’s truth and lies
picture this clear: my credit is limitless (that’s real)
the cemetary’s passin’ out memberships
fish and chips sold by your momma to bury you
my city ain’t a joke at night and daylight is scary too—you hear me? boo!
the .45 in the woolrich
i woke up on easter to rob the preacher in the pulpit—gone!
[outro: lamor miller~whitehead]
when i seen the armed men come in, you know, it was specifically for me. um, it was specifically for me and when i see them come into the sanctuary with their guns, i told everybody, “get out. everybody just get out.”
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