Linch Pins

Lyrics

[Intro] Guilty Uh [Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] Yo, I'm triumphant, I never got used to losing Through action reduce your movements (Uh) We talking paper? Enough said, who's greater It just proves whose news later Putting rappers in the newspaper Read the fine print on my dime of penniless nonsense (Nonsense) Rewind the content, idiots be not common (Shut up) Time spent time trying to grind rent, I need that Certified street rap, why you tweet that I don't run with bums, no heart, just thumbs and guns Couldn't walk in the slums I'm from Thee hundred and thirteen, the murk team You all some young Denzels the way you work the scene Pretending I'm relevant without mention Y'all can't fuck with Simpson Y'all can't touch the linchpin Y'all can't trust your henchmen Send 'em back toe tags (Yeah) We do him so bad Just know that (What) I'm all about my dope cash I put a hole in [?] [Survivor] specimens They want to breed my saliva Take out the driver Trying to ride on me Your gas low (Give me $5 on three) Yeah [Scratching: DJ Ragz] Gas-gas low Trying-trying-trying to ride on me Gas low Trying-trying-trying-trying-trying to ride on me Your gas low [Verse 2: Prince Po] Breaker one nine, still on my handle Queens interstate, international vandal Cash iron bars and bang 'em into shape on this anvil Raising high and look through this jungle, lyrical [?] [?] Brutal Armstrong [?] crucial moves to the grind Super hungry like no dumbed-down or stepped on product, so have the money right I look at self empowerment inside the paragraph Settle scores, busting down doors like batter-rams Snatch the cheddar, set the smash, travel lands like Madagasc' Rifleman, enlightened [?] Combing across horrid terrains and battlelands Killer riots, protest, with uncharted tension Poet guilt, God body sounding through the dark dimensions Fuck all the talk Walk, walk away, its loss prevention [Scratching: DJ Ragz] Down [?] down [?] Busting down doors-doors-doors [?] Certified-certified-certified street-street rapper