Solomon Childs - No Bullsh** lyrics

[Broccoli Rob] You don't want to play Rob, or quit your day job Cuz I stay sharp and play smart You covered no angles, you singing the blues like Bojangles And Dizzy Gillispie, now let's see Is he a great one, is he a Gretzky? Recipes for success spell relief Rest in peace unless you invest in me Yes indeed, I left your chest piece a mess, you see Crazy as a wet loosie, yo I let uzi's blow, but no hard feelings, bro Cuz it's hard dealing low, rappers bogart, they stealing flows High as ceiling chandeliers, I'm an endangered species I'm fielded like a panda bear, not a man that cares So, so, so, proceed with caution, age the speed that's awesome World's full of f**-ups, we need abortion Yo, your win, son, it's gruesome, cuz you win some, I lose none Head to head, let's make it a two-some If you come from the ruthless slums Where, mothers lose they sons, cuz others misuse they guns Bloods run the gutters, other than that We covered in crack, hood? Hood is flooded with traps Like pigeons, wings, wings, wings flutter and flap But never leave the ground, so, so, best believe I'm down Best believe I'm down, breath the sound, inhale the drum Do it for the frail and young, the jail and slums b**hes bump this sh** while they get they nails done Do it from the Isle that where I'm from, Staten Relaxing, relapsing in the back of Cadillac on Castleton Cops ha**ling, I flip the bird and laugh at 'em I mastered pen, crafted paragraphs faster than half these half a**ed Rappers tattling Banks in to burt, wasn't baptised, I took a bath in a church And not even half of the works, laughed then I cursed when I snatched my first purse Cursed from birth, but worse than that, we emerge the crap So much weight on my shoulder it'll hurt your back Know the ropes, cuz the older folks know the facts But when it's all said and done, Mr. Bush Mr. Bush, alls we want is our soldiers back... That's it... [Movie sample from "Training Day"] "Yeah, that's right you better walk away Go on, walk away, cuz I'ma burn this mothaf**er down! King Kong ain't got sh** on me!" [Solomon Childs] It be nothing but smooth sailing When the heat shot, now your crew's bailing I refuse to bow down, refuse to lay down Five and turn, and let the pistols pound Where the f** is the kid's crown, lady luck blowing all over the dice Seven forty five, realize the color of cajan rice This the pa**ion of Christ, done seen a lot of sh** Felt a lot of sh**, til the rap sh** in my boots Like how the f** the raps get in my boots Around metal it sizzle, wrap more dead meat than Reynolds Injuries that have you missing more games than Kerry Kittells There's a war going on outside, you hear the fiddles? And you so called units go head and jump And get your body severed apart with pumps [Outro: Solomon Childs] Talk slick n***a... talk slick, now! Come on... fix ya muthaf**ing face Talk slick, b**h, get licked, f*ggot