got Marcus Gavel the prophet
He had really taught you something
You can feel it in the air
There's something coming down
You don't know where you might
Bingy drum keeps strumming
I'm the cream of the crop
Don't try no scheme on the block
Got the scheme on the lock
Bring your dreams to the top
Girls scream on the clock,
and all of that, and all of that
That's all you need to know
Rasta man no bow, nice to blow
Let me tell you, love is the answer,
Rasta man, the Rasta man,
real gangsta, ain't change
Fuckers now the fucking bullets
you know we can sense these things
why you comment these things?
I leave your blood on the floor
and your brains in the sink
Damn, I kill you all, I make a damn
Sprint your fucking white shirt
becomes pink, stain like a ink
shout them out to live real
This year we doin' it big, damn
diamond ring on my fingers
Where the ringers, motherfuckers?
You're just some little beginners, damn
Righteousness come from root up the singer,
an d shoot up your bimmer