Inspectah Deck - The Cause lyrics | LyricsFreak
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The Cause Lyrics

Inspectah Deck – The Cause Lyrics

Multiple* gunshots [intro *

inspectah: deck] Yo
when, we do this we, do it for real We
do it for the love we, do it for the money For
the cash for, the women the, birds We
do it for the foundation for, the people No
matter how we do it we, do it for the cause Yea
yo, [chorus

inspectah: deck] What
you in for What? you live for What?
you die for I? hope it's for the cause What
you work for What? you stand for What?
you strive for I? hope it's for the cause [inspectah

deck] Inspectah
rhyme, beretta nine in ya sector Wet
the scenery with extreme measures Supreme
lecture bless, the heads you, dare enter The
9th chamber dance, with the mind bender Surrender
your thrown there's, no room for pretenders Bystander
pollyin worldwide with nine members Distributin
my, verbal sharp shootin While
I execute the deadliest moves with fine tunin Duel
of the iron mic bound to spark fusion Movin
at the speed of light nice, at what I'm doin Drop
it in ya brain like spice without, the five mics Heads
roll off hilltops when I strike Sniper
aim stick, you up for your price of fame Like
the flame watch, you get hot inside the game Recognize
my name I, N. S. your., highness I
rep for live sets place, ya bets make, ya threats There's
no cure even, the experts are stunned My
work is done as soon as I've just begun echo *[Chorus*


streetlife, I, never play a fan of the fame Just
build on my name and, master the slang I'm
hittin harder than a lot of artists in the game I'm
lyrically inclined rockin, just the same Than
any mc who ship platinum or gold And
only recoup to pay back what you sold Over
budget your video got, pimped like a hoe My
n s****move slo-mo like robotic clones I'd
rather be alive and paid than, dead broke My
life is like a thin line on, a tight rope A
fiend with no dope wrong, way to provoke The
man behind the scope tucked, ready, to smoke from
>the same place you from different, hood the, same slum Mother's
third seed father's, first son B
d*****child runnin wild livin, foul Ran
into some juvenile n s****in design P
L. O. Style. sign, my name on the dotten line Your
beef is mine dangerous, minds combine we, all carry nines echo *[Chorus*


deck] Hitman
like thomas hurns bustin, while the weed burns Shorty
sixteen, yearns, for my crew to take turns I'm
a loose cannon medically, examined Found
deadly as a plague soon, to spread like famine Splurgin
livin, out the dirty version Throwin
rocks at the ghetto birds circlin the urban Workin
overtime you, notice the shine N
s****scope mine models, won't work capone nine [streetlife]

travel in pairs you, got the front I, watch the rear Got
money on my mind this year by, all means Put
an end to your cold stairs crush, your small dreams What
you hear is the truth f, k**what you used to I
provide you with street music you can ride to Push
through sound, blastin through the sun roof Street
surfer lurkin, thirsty, for the loot I'm
in it to f k**fans and rock mic stands I
work for cash and fans and, die for the clan
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