He Who Dies With The Most Toys (Bonus Track)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Gen. Woundwart] I walk down the aisle on scope I ain't got a dime, I'm broke But I'm playing it every note I got my homie on stand at the front desk Talking to the man, because he's all down with the plan Fat leather trenchcoats, I'm about to apprehend those Under my sleeve and break with the cheese But I gotta avoid "He", the employee of the month So should I take the back or the front? Once, twice, three times I look around And my man gives the peace sign, so I make a beelinе I dip out into the gallery, security is tracking mе I break loose, yo they're trying to tackle me [Verse 2: Pat Juba] Assault gaffle, [a thin?] hassle, black shackles Tackles, the movement stifles my dough cycle Of being fresh dipped soaking wet With adrenaline slash lust, authority thoroughly can't trust Material master, raised ill on the garments 30 deep niggas dominating your department Store, for more pleasure, knocking ya out the box Five pair of Travelfox, mashing around the block [Chorus - Vocal Sample 1:] From the earliest writings of man We know that human race has been comprised of the haves and have-nots [Chorus - Vocal Sample: James Brown - Papa Don't Take no Mess] You can understand [x2] A man has to do whatever he can [Verse 3: Sept Sev Sev Two] Now I'm just small potatoes planted in the field of ganking My bank is the record store over on 4th & Franklin I walk into the spot and case it Rip the magnet tags off the jewel cases Break and sell them shits at used places Got the hookup at that spot on lake street Baby always take these discs at 5 bucks a pop, saves me When I'm twenty short, I'm quick to pawn four or more I know it's against the law, but I never even been to court before I guess my straw got pulled today, didn't try to escape They ain't got shit, oh wait, they got that shit on videotape I punched him in the belly and I gave him a slap But little did I know the retail manager was strapped [Verse 4: Gen. Woundwart] See, you don't know what I got But I know what you got Because I give to ya, and even a mouse I'm the Count Dracula, the true gaffler Extracting the world of it's elements, claiming to be benevolent Controlling sentiment within the herds and crews Using television to spread my worldly views I gave knowledge that I wanted you to have, no doubt Then I created a nation who needs help off the fucking couch [Chorus - Vocal Sample 1:] From the earliest writings of man We know that human race has been comprised of the haves and have-nots [Chorus - Vocal Sample: James Brown - Papa Don't Take no Mess] You can understand [x2] A man has to do whatever he can [Verse 5: Pat Juba] Backstreet senators generate foul predators Militant generals audit, credit continual Habitual, critical beat down, found literal slain Bullet stains, hot missile with scratched serial Parallel, embedded niggas in cells Pharmaceutical cannabis merchandiser Elijah Muhammad supporter Hard like amethyst spiritual water Survivalism for family, five borders The Karma, highly denting and bruising your armor For victimless [swarms?] of enemies born to harm ya Trade tours, perpetrators get backdoored No allegiance, 'cuz they snitch free with no laws [Verse 3: Sept Sev Sev Two] I see smugglers, gamblers, burglars, ramblers Pickpockets, peddlers, even panhandlers The UN, MTC, Daytons, Foot Locker, Sam Goody Hardees, Kenny's Market, Parking Ramps, and Camp Snoopy Movie theaters, nightclubs, The Mall of America Record labels, phone companies and Walt Disney characters Put you all in handcuffs, 'til you all have swollen hands 'Cuz you're all just thieves selling dreams on stolen land [Vocal Sample: Public Enemy - Hazy Shade of Criminal] Robbed and stole so many, so much it ain't funny Now I got'em face on money