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von poe vii - views from the vii lyrics

introduction:

“message said you’d be here. still, kind of thought it’d be one of your minions who showed up in the flesh”
– det. william ‘bunk’ moreland

“you caught up in some of my people’s papers? – omar little

[chorus]

now if i got locked
would you jack my style
or try to downplay me
to cash out on the cow
and if i got locked
would you be there to greet me
or leave me in a cage
like them animals on tv (2x)

[verse one]

if we’re being honest
never needed a cosigner
from these wack -ss rhymers
my sperm cells pack a meaner clientele
than tony soprano
i’m omar with the shotty
in a phony rapper’s lobby
i’m probably bout to catch a body
you on the wire my nigga
see, you stringer in the window
i’m mouzone without the bow tie
if you can’t tell
i’m hungry for this shit
like it was retail
bet a million that i’ll body
your favorite rappers and females
(55 my nigga)
see even jesus had to die though
and i ain’t really into photos
so don’t ask unless it’s promo
still mothaf-ck the coppas
on this block that i’m walkin
the gorilla stomping in darkness
never one for the barkin
i bring the chaos
niggas ain’t shit without their crews
or a pussy’s face when you’re facing em’
claiming your style ain’t reaganism, paganism
i’ll push the bacon back in the stable
swine dining findings
never the villain or god that i be
pay attention
you wasn’t sharing the wealth
so now we’re taking it
you don’t know about that struggle
cause you spend a couple days in it
and i’ll d-ck slap you parappa, the rappers
and laugh casually
how you carrying the westcoast
knowing you ain’t as nice as me
keeping it thorough
i had to cut some niggas out of my circle
(pause)
that’s what that paranoid will do to you
who’s iller than us
the heat that you’re packing will never bust
i’m never dusty with the raps
i give respect when it’s given back
but never that
so why these suckas hating
on poetic’s raps
it’s probably cause
me and my niggas about to bring it back
or probably cuhz
them niggas been knowing that they wack
it’s that cl-ssic az and nas
illmatic raps mothaf-cka

[chorus]

now if i got locked
would you jack my style
or try to downplay me
to cash out on the cow
and if i got locked
would you be there to greet me
or leave me in a cage
like them animals on tv (2x)

[verse two]

at any minute i could flip it on em
a career based on instrumental drops
and catchy punch lines
i’m done talkin
the rain of seven like mathematics
spit it backwards like white america
white power with afros
and still wouldn’t change shit
the still will leave you brainless
i’ll still pop the steel
if ever broke to steal your bank with
that alpha and omega
i spit it for the culture
triple sevens in my paradise
i’m hella nice
i purified holy water in dirty sprite
the devil’s blessing trap niggas
the god was never true to them
food for thought
was better off anonymous
painting pictures
my flow schemes
a vivid interpretation of scriptures
you niggas never gon’ pop
that money talk
that’s ever corny rapper
on every block
stop dumbing down my culture
you kings and queens
be selling off your royalties
to the vultures, uh
oh what, you thought this was a game?
to me, i’ll lace the beat in a coffin box
and tell it to rest in peace
what part of the game ain’t niggas comprehending
that simple science
i’m the alchemist
and equivalent exchanges
is my accomplishment
that riverside reppa
all up in your sector
i’ve been gutta with the raps
and i’m steady reaching for the dresser
got caught up in a stack of wackness
wrapping up packages
dip and damaged them
my apologies
i had to switch the plan on them
new beginnings
i never was the type
to handle contracts, so
them niggas ain’t around
their loyalty fronted
i hit that reset b-tton
we ever lasting
i’m steady casting off
recruiting authors
ayo the threat is like when hell was conquered
this is that wordplay villainous
while niggas be grillin
from unlimited distance
eliminate your style before you had one
i’ll strap cast on
without the mask on
then i’ll toss you in a lake to p-ss on
before i blast off
the villain

[chorus]

now if i got locked
would you jack my style
or try to downplay me
to cash out on the cow
and if i got locked
would you be there to greet me
or leave me in a cage
like them animals on tv (2x)

outro:

“i’m just working, doing what a man’s suppose to do” – det. william ‘bunk’ moreland

“oh i know you’ve been busy. caught some talk from them men you roughed up, over on the westide” – omar little

“all this death, you don’t think it ripples out? you don’t even know what the f-ck i’m talking about. i was a few years ahead of you at edmondson, but i know you remember the neighborhood, how it was. we had some bad boys, for real. wasn’t about guns so much as knowing what to do with your hands. those boys could really rack. my father had me on the straight, but like any young man, i wanted to be hard too, so i’d turn up at all the house parties where the tough boys hung. shit, they knew i wasn’t one of them. them hard cases would come up to me and say, “go home, schoolboy, you don’t belong here.” didn’t realize at the time what they were doing for me. as rough as that neighborhood could be, we had us a community. nobody, no victim, who didn’t matter. and now all we got is bodies, and predatory motherf-ckers like you. and out where that girl fell, i saw kids acting like omar, calling you by name, glorifying your -ss. makes me sick, motherf-cker, how far we done fell” – det. william ‘bunk’ moreland

- von poe vii lyrics

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