Prime Minister

Prime Minister - Rich Briing 'Em Back lyrics

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(feat. Cage)



If anyone knows who the first rapper is, let us know



[Verse 1: ???]



Check it 1-2, check it, undercover as I wreck it

Liver than a limb on a cripple, but still I rep it

The voodoo master, last of the Mohicans

Tomahawkin heads for my peeps that I be freaking

Despicable, I hit you with the quick blow

Stick you with the hyperdermic lyric in your blood flow

I reanimated the chip off your shoulder

Stick it up your ass, now you're the holder of a boulder

Mo' money folder, from the streets soldier

Flippin it on the 1-2, I twist, ya then I roll ya

I move on the d-l, conceal like a smuggler

Peepin out the process, and then I go for jugular

A misdirected man with the taste to be prolific

The person and the verbs that are droppin and I'm lifted

So Rich, bring em back from the borough of the Brooklyn

Folding all the dough like a hooker who be hookin



[Chorus:]



Bring it back on the rhyme

Bring it back one more time

Yeah, Rich chop the beat

Type of music that starts getting G's



[Verse 2: Pete Nice]



Who's that, the master of the ill flow

Heard him on a mix show, vocabs and lingo

I'm flippin around a dollar boy, I'm a check Bobbito

And then I get my dose, and I'm out to sleep benito

Full of bigger bats in my belfry because I'm Edgar Alan Poe, like

This and like that and eh - please grab my dick right

My funk like the Groove Merchant label representin

Daddy Rich bringin em back, stingin em like a henchman

So step, cause you never, never fuck with me hops

Sippin on a 40 as I listen to the dreadnots

What's that, you thought you got the heartbeat

But yo, I got mysery for you and your punks, see

If I took three punks I do em like Chuckie doin Queens

Suckin on a steel, got em shittin out the beans

So Rich, bring em back, so we can smack em up

Yo, the track's the shit, so yo, I pick the slack up



[Chorus]



[Verse 3: Cage]



My cuts are hell! Leave a hooker strung up by the ankles

Stripped in meaty chunks, all that dangles in the bangle

From a certain angle she's resembling my momma

I'm in it for the trauma, no comma can force my bomber

I Timberland my limbs when I stick vics in

My kids are fistful of maggots ain't even my sickest habit

Blood spat in my chest, pressed in my teeth

I feast like I'm a vulture, destined cannibal culture

So check this, you get to be another dead miss or mister

With the pistol up inside your sister's belly

The master of a million molestings

believe you try and breathe and I'm a blast your ass to jelly

I swear, with everyone's life in my career

That if my family was burning only joy would push out tears

Leave me all alone up in the attic, I got an automatic

With three caps and two money for static

With my father, my mother, the lesbian for the other

On the side of me, two of my little sisters say goodbye to me

BLAST! I'm burning in the middle of the Earth

Got no self-worth, I'm dragging pussies by the head at birth

No retribution, miss my execution

You sucking out the hose of bad clothes you producing

Could wait to bite my way free from out the muzzle piece

Spit blood in my 40, waste no ducats so I guzzle it

Strive to stay alive and I thrive on humans screaming

Got the semen of a demon, mom dukes is so demeaning

Can't wait to spatter my bladder I'm on the drinking

No play fair, your bloodstains be in my sink and

Two rats is acting me deaf, don't be a fact to me

The misses gets a hystorectimy for disrespecting me

Fiddle with a spell until my grandfather fell

Swell, I'm looking forward to burning in hell
Get this song at:
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amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

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