The Iron Age Suite, Op. 55: I. The Wedding Procession of Ilmari and the Golden Woman

歌詞

[Hook x2: Ka] Born in a sinning place, mourned and been at wakes Scorned the grinning jakes; it's on, I send the apes Generate cake scraped off dinner plates Niggas wanna be tough; it's us they imitate [Verse 1: Ka] Me and my chrome hip, long clip; put in work, won't quit My word is bond; yours don't stick Long as it's dough to grab, I'mma hold a mag Load the bag, 'til I'm a helmet and a folded flag Known peasant, roam desert, no canteens To see if a hand green, did dirt soap can't clean In time you'll see a thin line between friend and rival Between you and me, stupidity amends bravado Almost died tryna make paper, now I pen survival Mac-10's reliable in fight mode on that night road Zoned out on the blocks, cops iso'd Raw covering, enduring suffering more like Job Here's a flashback: stash packs by the light pole Recipe's desperately press keys like I write code No typo; I'm quick-witted, you type slow Promoters call me Moses by how I spark and leave Notice, come through the crowd, my staff parts the sea Make fly jams for live fans that's hard to please You was badly trained while I parry, feint, bob and weave In rough waters, niggas bolt; I stay and never waver Y'all all sweet; I'm more unique with a better flavor If my phonetics don't take, then I'mma net a caper Carry the heat, reppin' Hull Street then Decatur Stayed in hell all my life; I need heaven's visa Know what's right, but can't change overnight like Ebenezer [Hook x2] [Verse 2: Roc Marciano] I'm flattered; guys are fried ad battered Housewives are battered, knives are jagged When it's static, bring and automatic to combat it I hit the henny like it's padded; you panic Three from the cannon trample you like a wooly mammoth The minivan vanished, I burn 'til my eyes slanted Me and Ka set a higher standard The money got sent through a wire transfer Ferrari body like exotic dancers' Eat you from the inside like cancer I'm a panther, you real prissy and pampered Lyrically, to me, you're a pamper My stanzas, I gotta hand 'em out to fiends like samplers But honestly, I should've went to Stanford But what I learned from scrambling ain't in the pamphlet Gotta keep a tool like repairman (yep) Can't afford to be or move careless Niggas'll put that Mac-10 to your spare ribs You heard a prophet spoke I'm from the projects; to get by I sold dope Had high hopes for folks that got high on coke But used to be responsible adults Fell from grace, in love with the way freebase taste From the hoods of L.I. to B.K Marci