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conejo - that's the curse lyrics
[verse 1]
it’s like fast foward through
all these cd’s dropping
release date come
m-th-f-ckers is flopping
they flopping?
yeah the streets ain’t copping
but when it come to me
you know my sh-t be popping
so relax – boy
cause my word game crazy
i’m lil scorsese
a f-cken lucchese
whats good
i’ve been a way for a few
but the one that pull strings
back to give em the blues
a million views
cause the topic is key
a fo fo – fo five
desert eagle i squeeze
homie please
i’m just here to get cheese
i’m chunking up the h
twisting j’s of green
the turfs up loco
and you’s a punk
ese i’m big dog
pouring death in your cup
it’s time to f-ck
the white b-tch in the rover
in a pyrex bowl
intertwined with the soda
[hook]
that’s the curse
of the puppet master
the knowledge i decipher
is for all them gangsters
going after
the f-cken kingdom i built
i’m a tell you right now
that i k!ll for thrills
that’s the curse
of the puppet master
ese coded dialog
for the criminal factor
it’s disastrous
with out me in the game
so i’m back to clean house
and put these b-tches to shame
[verse 2]
my minds playing tricks
on the enemy
cause everywhere he look
he think he seeing me
i’m insane
fresh out thee asylum
reputation is large
so them labels won’t sign em
back to the grinding
blind folding the hostage
ain’t giving up the goods
dead bodies i’m tossing
off the grid
cause i’m a poetry wizard
the sh-t that i say
paint venomous pictures
they mixtures
of s-x, drugs and music
conspiracy radio
the bosses approve it
deep thinker
that do away with the trash
blue chucks khakis creased
and run the show from the back
and for the fiends
i perform in the slums
that’s right m-th-f-cker
no escape if you run
they like d-mn !
was he born in h-ll?
they some puppets on a string
ese can’t you tell
[hook]
[verse 3]
they say i’m hard to hit
with 2 gats at my waist
i’m tearing up the city
like i’m toxic waste
fools checking for my poems
they tatting they domes
ese catch you off balance
that’s a funeral home
lil trukos
smoke all you lames
i’m from the stomping grounds
of the big h gang
muerto fin : t-loco
corcoran to the bay
ese read between the lines
of what i say
is it that coca language
or that gangster type
homie bust your rugar
ese get your stripes
turn out the light
and see the devils face
descend a couple miles
to a lower place
thee injunction
describe k!llers and riders
ese all out in the street
i’m a soldier survivor
west sider
realistic a mystic
ese toking on some bomb
homie rocking stylistics
[hook]
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