Uh-oh, here comes another one One of those rumblin' tumblin'/ Type of beats to have Your eardrums tremblin'/ And here they go again Floatin right over it/ Potent vocal emotion From Detroit, it's Slum Village/ Damn it hit's. . . So what the damage is/ When they combine their manuscripts And handle this/ Kids are panic strick Their ego's need bandages/ As their delusions of grandeur Vanish quick, Like blood so thick/ This trinity will Never break or bend/ Smoother than sin As they blend like juice and gin/ Throwing caution to the wind Accosting these hip hop trends/ And it don't stop till the sun goes dim And the earth can't spin/ And the moon won't glow Cause it has no light to reflect/ And the blackhole that was once the sun Sucks us into it's vortex/ As long as T3, Baatin, and Elzhi Have mic's to check/ I'll be bouncin' to this Tainted track Like Seattle rain bouncin' off my Gortex/ Much respect
See ya, Be ya, Free Mumia.
Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. Then, on the way out, slam the door. --Unknown