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Feb 16
Turn the beat up, and let the heat heat up,
Check it, my mics sound ice, glistening blinding suckas, from my frozen ice,
We move like mice, no snitches, cuz they get stitches,
What is this, mic murderers menace this,
Ain't no coming back from this,
My styles deeper than Chris,
Times two, peep the rendezvous, break down crews,
As an individual, yall edible, none of ya sources credible,
Im like Jada, sending a kiss, from the bullets that hiss,
Like a snake, silencers keep yall un awake, keep my stakes,
At large, take a charge of my Gurka cigar,
Fools ended up scarred, cuz they couldn't move faster,
Im linked cartels to rastas, def jam master blaster,
**** the news caster, i make my own moves from disaster,
Now ask yaself whos the master,
Build own my destiny,like the Rockefellers,
We be the Goodfellas,
Brown as nutellas, never dated Cinderallas , bellas bellas,
Give ya headaches to sweaters,
Dont nut in her,
Cuz she'll take for everythang, with no remains,
A crown without a kang,
Simple and plain, i take twist of the jane, blunt split,
Like the end of ocean, no boastin',
I stay in space, ghost floatin,
Can't catch my mind, its on the light of speeds time, to rhyme,
I keep bad design, im not thinking what you thinkin if you had my mine,
Slipping through time, speaking consciously and no sublime,
So suckas stand in line,
Ya lunch money is mine, bully em every line, tracks to design,
Carefully put in aligned,
Ya rhymes is burned, overturn, from the jury sentencin,
Yo what up world! Its my turn,
Bloodline of King Yashayah
Written by
Bloodline of King Yashayah  26/M/Hell on Earth Since Birth
(26/M/Hell on Earth Since Birth)   
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