666 Damian (for all you that love hip hop), page 1
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reply posted on 29-5-2003 @ 08:41 PM by captivity
The World Is Yours



(Chorus)

It's yours

Whose world is this

The world is yours...

It's mine...



I sip the Don P, watching Gandhi till I'm charged

And writing in my book of rhymes, all the words pass the margin

Then hold the mic, I'm throbbing, mechanical movement

Understandable smooth # that murderers move wit

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right

The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crackpipe

The mind activation, react like I'm facing

Time like Perry mason wit pens I'm embracing

Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phelgm on the streets

Suede Tims on my feets, make my cypher complete

Whether crusing in a sixth cab or Montero jeep

I can't call it the beats make me falling asleep

I keep falling but never falling 6 feet deep

I'm out for presidents to represent me

I'm out for presidents to represent me

I'm out for dead presidents to represent me



Chorus



To my man Illwill, God bless your life

To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life

I trip nex box of crazy bitches, aiming guns in all my baby pictures

Beef wit housing police, release scriptures that's made me Hitlers

Yet I'm the mild money, getting style, rolling foul

The versatile honey, sticking wild golden child

Dwelling in the rotten apple, you get tackle

Or caught by the devil's lasso, # is a hassle

There's no days for broke days but selling smoke pays

While all the old folks pray to Jesus so many sins and trays

Of holy water, odds against Nas' slaughter

Thinking a word best describing my life to name my daughter

My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection

Born in correction all the wron # i did, he'll lead a right direction

How ya living, large or broke, but charge cards are mediocre

You flipping coke or playing spit spades in strip poker



Chorus



I'm the young city bandit, hold myself down singlehanded

For murder raps, I kick my thought along, get remanded

Born along, die along, no crew to keep my crown or throne

I peep my sal' along, cave inside a thousand miles from home

I need a new nigga for this black crowd to follow

Cuz whylings over me, it's too dark to see tomorrow

Trying to maintain, I flip, feel equip to the tip

Picturing my peeps ?nadd in? could make my heartbeat skip

And I'm amped up, they locked the champ up

Even my brain's in handcuffs

Heading for Indiana stabbing women like the Phantom

The crew is lamping big Willie style

Check the chip tooth smile plus I profile wild

Stash through the flock, clothes burning, dollars to light my stove

Walk the blocks wit a bop, checking danes plus the games people play

Bust the problems of the world today



Chorus



Yea, aight, to everybody in Queens, the foundation

The world is yours

To everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours

The world is yours

To everybody in Brooklyn, y'all know the world is yours

The world is yours

Everbody in Mt Ronin, the world is yours

Long Island, the world is yours

Staten Island, yea the world is yours

South Bronx, the world is yours
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