payday monsanto – god bless the child lyrics
hmmm…
i don’t do it for the money, i don’t do it for the fame, i don’t do it for the honey, i don’t do it for the name. the fact is, i don’t even do it for the love, i do it ’cause it’s part of the fluid in my blood. so, even if that love was deadbeat & gone, i’d still have to shove ahead, and keep on, but the love is a lie, and the need only grows stronger. stay aware. oh, i gotta, and i’m gonna…
lyrically one line is trey keys, if bars was coke, one measure would have you paddlin’ your boat to belize. (mc’s) you wanna see stress? i’ll makе you wake up from a dream screamin’, rеalizin’ you ain’t go to sleep yet. i take advantage of flourishing mics, and prolific pens, squash your ego, like your wife askin’ “is it in?” tricky like horowitz, i’ll have my foes dead, like scantily clad coeds in corny horror ficks. i spat shimmery raps, before diamonds was in, now i’m rawdog, breakin’ in your hymens, again. howard stern with chicks, man i hit ’em & slip, even if they lose the quiz, i still give ’em the trip. stone mc’s in center square, make ’em phone the exorcist, after i give they head a twist, like linda blair. this sh+t is timeless, i just made it today, i been found my niche, and i gave it away…
every achin’ day, a piece of our culture’s take astray, our right comes closer to being taken away. them that’s got shall get, them that’s not shall lose, so the bible says, and it’s still the news. my plight is a just war cause, when you do your own thing, you own things you could just call yours. it ain’t that sweet in these impoverished zones, god bless the child that’s got his own…
some kids think they edgar allen poe, ’cause they can make nice words blend, pimp one foul hoe, now he’s iceberg slim. i’m not a fancy man, by any stretch of the imagination, ’cause the elegance is balanced, ain’t no need for decoration. but, i bet i could spit ornaments with the best of ’em, f+ck lightin’ your tree, i’m scorchin’ it, with the rest of ’em. make the drums feel fortunate i’m caressin’ ’em, only stabbin’ it proportionate to they estrogen levels, and if god made this one a h+rny little devil. but, it’s testosterone shots that do that, these manufactured cats just get c+ck in they food+trap, producin’ hip+slop, sayin’ they rule rap. i’ll give ’em more barrels of pork, than this god+forsaken society, that isn’t tryin’ to see the sausage makin’. soon, i’ma start every day with no+name brands, and have the blood of my breakfast, lunch, and dinner on my hands…
every achin’ day, a piece of our culture’s take astray, our right comes closer to being taken away. them that’s got shall get, them that’s not shall lose, so the bible says, and it’s still the news. my plight is a just war cause, when you do your own thing, you own things you could just call yours. it ain’t that sweet in these impoverished zones, god, god bless the child that’s got his own…
((((got his own))))
“he just don’t worry ’bout nothin’, ’cause he’s got his own”+ billie holiday from the song “god bless the child”
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