Speak - Two-Tone lyrics

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Speak - Two-Tone lyrics

[Vince Staples] Been on track I was trained by the martyrs We ran from them cases the cops should applaud us If god is my father then where was the condom Astaghfirullah when I pull out the chopper Father did a bid for k**ing innocent Kids, now his kids not innocent penitentiary eminent Spawn to ignorance they sold crack at my christening Raised in the shacks here's a map come and visit f** that teenage hypebeast crowd this here's some n***a sh** Spit the bedish of bars The cars out in the yard Used for trafficking africans to the motherland Son of Sambo sold glow flow flammable heathens At the crib twenty deep watching Hannibal Lecter I lecture n***as You eye witness confess to n***as On that Daivion Davis If we ever see that n***a bet we k** him quick fast Eagles give him whiplash Reggie White n***a save the night I talk sh** cause I paid the price And i'll take your life Wanna test your luck roll the dice And get little diced (from the movie) [Speak] Came from the land of the black bar mitzvahs SS Thunderbolt six foot Hitlers Rims on the truck truck spin like a dreidel Love for the fast life attraction fatal Grave to the cradle then I run up in your crib Fifty racks up front or your kids won't live Pressure point panic mode well something gotta give I leave my mark like the needle on the dope fiends limbs Powder blue timbs powdered toast man muddy mud skipper With a jug of dirty brown liquor Got the b**hes lit like a goddamn manora Then I put the beard-face to her labia majora Scream from the pleasure girl cry from the pain All I wanted was respect and my goddamn chain All I got were the labels trying to send me a**ignment Ghost writing gigs trying to keep me up in silence I'm from the west coast b**h we invented violence Don't believe me check the tape on the '92 riots I never met a bridge that I didn't want to burn Never met a dollar bill that I didn't want to earn k** them put them in the urn, send them to my undertaker Bored with this life and I hope to meet my maker I'll look him in the eye and I tell him thanks for nothin Self-made twenty somthin I deserve to be stuntin

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