Shine

Lyrics

[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz] Digital Bible rap prophecy revolves the Earth in pit stops "Specialist" "On the Mic," punch-in-the-face hip hop You can't bust back—I crack shells like weak pottery Lobby the street—possibly done properly Probably—populations ponder popularity We'll see. Erratically, I switch polarities Navigate space through bars fantastically The art of energy spark the symmetry, limit me In rhythm speed, I bone beats to gift the seeds Snakes suck my double-edged blade 'til the venom scream Faces of death, unheard verbs will kill and scream Drop skills and beam my Millennium thing Barcode fiends identify through UPCs Scan your retina. [?] swole like [?] Low pressure. Prose let us change cloak like Fletcher Pass work through your sector, lie in a stretcher Your army together, bring pressure while the streets get redder (Streets get redder) [Verse 2: L.I.F.E. Long] Left, right steps forward march. My fleet takes it to streets Early rise at a 6 AM wakeup call to the sound of clapped heat All you see is open mustard bombs and smoke clouds linger through the air Physiqued bandits run to their moms Face covered, you can't make out they descriptions Everyone's moving in the same patterns All taking positions from [?] left painting the scriptures on papers dirt-red From the spill of blood due to the previous battle night Non-sight vision sees bodies dead Enter the battlefield a day after walking victorious, face flush With joy when my conquer with enemy allies got crushed Some reveal the game cons us We're left to decay in septic clouds of dust Fatal addiction, slept, and slave to lust Secrets no longer hush, still silent Tongues sweet, speaking violence [Hook: Breez Evahflowin'] (x2) Yo, these are the things that we least express Release the stress (Shine) 'til we see success 'Til the most and the least is fed Cock back, bust off at the beat 'til the streets is red [Verse 3: Wiz] New York corner streets, where the borders meet Late night, holding heat 'til their organ beat Shop riots, pistols and crackpipes Now it's that life What's worse? To live 21 or never see 21st? Picture me in a hearse Deluxe casket, six in the earth Turned to dust, ashes—nah I'll be ninety years old, still holding my spot Still calling the shots Life is still all to the God Only in God Bible, read pages Life in three stages Birth, grow up, and demise I can see bitches by the look in his eyes You're not a crook but he tries They done dug more work through Brooklyn at night Now face your bullets. They real and deadly They'll kill your family You feel your metty? Leave it alone You'll be upstate with no more bitches to bone Fam steady, [?] poem Getting stabbed as you reach for the phone [Verse 4: Breez Evahflowin'] With my vocal demonstration, devastation follows The elevation of tomorrow to Satan's sorrow Got to get up, get to taking 'cause waiting's hollow Science sours, Pagans and powers Seeds from the [virgin?] hour forsaking ours And they allow us to express ourselves on wax Burden with the murderous tax converted with facts We attracted to stars—was Copernicus black? Return to the sack, trying to get back in the womb It's like the whole world dust and pussy is the vacuum Hell yeah, shorty, I'mma meet you in the bathroom And bring your fucking high school teacher from the classroom Don't ask, "Whom or what set it?" Get it in your gut The foot in niggas' ass—now what better than they strut? [And death, the day?] was before because of all y'all Bullshit rappers, get ready for war! [Hook: Breez Evahflowin'] (x2) Yo, these are the things that we least express Release the stress (Shine) 'til we see success 'Til the most and the least is fed Cock back, bust off at the beat 'til the streets is red [Outro (Overlapped with Ad Libs of Hook): Breez Evahflowin'] Uh. Uh. Blood-red. Wiz. What? Strongholding! What? Crystal Lake. Ha. Yeah. Come with me. Yeah. Strongholding!