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Correct Illmind Interlude Lyrics
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Slaughterhouse
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Correct Illmind Interlude
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[Produced by !llmind] [Intro: Crooked I] I don’t even know what to say man I'ma... I'ma go Miles Davis A lot of improvisation man I'ma let the music talk to me I'ma talk back though Let my words bounce off the bassline Bounce back to my thought process I mean I'm just I'm just tryna uhh, keep up with Illmind right now Yo Just man, you can delete all this shit I'm just warmin' it up for my brothers right now My three brothers House Gang for life [Verse 1: Crooked I] If you can't stand the heat, better creep out the kitchen This music so therapeutic, it could be our religion If I am my own problem, then I am my own solution We buildin' a glass house so you can see how we livin' Hold up, turn the beat down and listen I was predicted to be convicted; catching them beatdowns in prison By prison guards cause fuck; authority figures minority niggas be livin' hard Tell me how to see out your vision, when you limit ours You only want us seeing the struggle but I got (Bands in my duffel, bands, bands in my duffel) Yeah, you can ask the slaughters, I don't mess wit' you rappers Matter of fact, our third album is a message to rappers My nigga we let you breathe Now all of them accolades from ratchet bitches and faggots in this rapping business is over It's back to the business of gangsta rapping that I'm mixin' with this backpack, spittin' With a Rat Pack clique of niggas, you best believe You pussy period, I bet you bleed A fake nigga that listen to snakes nigga, I bet you Eve Meanwhile I'm on my Django with my field niggas Twelve years a slave, this industry tryna' kill niggas Even if they noose me, I die hangin' with some real niggas And all my nephews are in my will like Uncle Phil, nigga I'm really cocky, but that's on the low like Makaveli's intro When it sounded like somebody said "Suge shot me" [Verse 2: Joell Ortiz] I shot the shit with the niggas that shot shit up Welcome to my hood papi Where every nights a movie, but never a good copy I sat on granny couch, amped about what I'm rambling bout When the amp blew out I made beats with my hands and mouth The man of the house so early Lil odd [?] curly Blow out, running behind the girlys My nigga Jigs nicknamed me Idoboy I do miss him so durly Just Blaze, I just blaze one up Boy I'm headed up to mobile monday I hope you 45's ain't dirty Don't need them bitches skipping I know I'm skipping around but fuck it Cuz I could still bust it with random thoughts You gotta love it Hey Crook you my brother Royce you my brother Joe you my brother 4 different fathers, 4 different mothers But raised by the culture You bet we were hanging the same poster Staring at Lil Kim with the legs open Rewinding the Nas verse, blasting some Hov Dancing to Biggie, tripping off Canibus flow Don't act like Cano wasn't a savage you know But back then my squad, everyone rapping is pro Yea Marshall Mathers my bro, hey Catfish it's a go The magic of 2.0, Just gettin started I'm confused because this healthy mindset made our album retarded I'm just playing with words, yea they pay me for that The stages of rap, ask these promoters these places is packed Just killing time till that album drop Slow it down, I dissed you I said It's killing time when that album drop
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