Laulunsanoja:
Dead Hearts Hollow

that only I know Goodfella not gunshotto And I'm tellin' niggas, make money's the motto Fuck the niggas that squable And I hit them back and fourteen hollow

games. Many tried for it, lied for it, get a catchy chorus and fly for it. Take orbit, let gravity be your fortress tonight. Elevate your brain, hold your heart

darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving Still my heart

overspecialized, under pressurized No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized With empty rhetoric, they better quit Niggas so hollow that they echo like sentiments Nowadays rap artists coming half-hearted

the dead out the realm with a 6 Overwhelmed by the smell of the clips, gun smoke, shots hit We surrounded by Hell and politics, bulletproof or hollow

today's subject is death The way I look at it it's three basic elements right? Die, dying, dead right? die, dying, dead. death becomes you says the

on tight, to your life Cause we just might have to take it Locked and loaded fully automatic, just in case Finger on the trigger, spittin' hollow points

This what you call hardcore, fat gospel street gospel South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South

you know, sharp as an arrow Sing like a sparrow, Grym Reap's the motto +Killing You Softly+ with Islam right knowledge For hollow-head pieces that worship dead