As The World Keeps Turning Lyrics

As The World Keeps Turning lyrics

[Featuring Where]
Intro/Chorus:
As the world keeps turning chronic keeps
burning
(This ain't no) street sermon these niggas are
determined
*Repeat*
Verse 1:Where
I flow like CD's in the
deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from
the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can't bust G
So
leave me alone I'm in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get
blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I'm low in the cut and
gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone,
get off that nigga's style and get'cha own
It's Miscellane and it's on
again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya
big fuckin mouth shut
Chorus
Verse 2:Where
I woke up with a stomach
ache, headache, back ache
Advil, Tylenol, Peptol, slept so long realised my
world is wrong
My world is gone like disco
Blowin up Cisco and in my
Cammo
Standin in back of me was my soul
Thinking of the easiest way to
get a bank roll
Knowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifold
A tar can of
hos to lubricate my system quick
Shaky bitches off the dick
Cos she got a
vice grip on the flow from my lips
I'm slow but equipped with the proper
tools
Show me the one talkin shit so I can drop a fool
I'm out to glow a
nigga roll if he think he Mr CREAM
Come back on the scene and smoke a
phillie, G
I really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you what's
silly
Me, buckin with my team is murder one
I heard a gun bustin shots
(SHOTS!), down the block (BLOCK!)
I guess a nigga gettin what he got
(GOT!)
Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke
niggas
I'll fuck one for y'all, they made ya last phone call
To a trick
that didn't even care
Cos she was gettin fucked somewhere, you're stuck in
there
Now you wanna bust, nigga, now you wanna kill, nigga (Nigga)
Nigga
how ya feel? (Nigga)
You can't try to be real (You can't try to be
real)
Shit is for real
Chorus
Verse 3:Where
I'm cooler than most,
but I got the shorter temper
And I'm cooler than foes that don't know how it
goes
Let's take it back to the first side
When you was a new jack and
jockin my new track
But you was wrong, didn't know about the big
long
Head-strong, nicknamed Dav from off the school yard
Witta teenage
group I'm turnin loots to tracks
Me and my niggas like (These tracks are
laced with bomb weed and tight
lyrics)
You wanna know what the hos used
to do
When me and my crew came bustin through
All sorts of blushins
brew
(A neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, Miscellane is the
crew)
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue
This is for the
bitches and niggas that wanna front
I smoke on, I broke on till I spoke
on
Miscellane packin shows like Farrakhan
Where is on another level with
two niggas that's on the same plateau
Now that's three times your tightest
flow
And three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest
sack
Three times is clever (BUCK!)
Chorus x 2
Outro:
Thou shalt
rest in grief who lay buried in the belt
Barely included work, leaves bodies
scarred and hurt
To art in hell, where the next man dwells
The place with
stankin pussy and crack rock dwells