Artist: Bronze Nazareth f/ Kevlaar 7, Phillie, Salute Da Kidd Album: School for the Blindman Song: Worship Typed by: Bronze Nazareth [Hook] We bow our heads, in respect and worship We bow our heads, in respect and worship [Salute Da Kidd] Before I ease back the heat clap so relax Immortal build I'm well fit for combat Like Amtrak, I speed through and blaze tracks When time to kill I transform to Sam Jack The weed blow I'm gung-ho the drama pro Call a war I hop for it like little Joe The hard way is hard time for lost souls In a era of real niggas who never fold Bout my cho sunshine to rainy days Thunderstorm when lightning strikes I turn the page Release rage 12 gage buckshot I bleed for it, I breath for it, I am the block Ignored the warning he didn't listen so wish him well Dark clouds the blunt burning we live in hell The world turning, get dizzy searching for brighter rays Stomp the yard I march hard for Illah Dayz [Bronze Nazareth] Yo, the city blaze, I tightrope the Everglades My heart is pure, police scope my written page Under the table the rats go the ratchet blow Levitate great, bullets lift to plateau Assassinate for black gold in escrow Koresh flow, your best move, relax slow From hard knocks to Gun Rule to Ward block The body chalk, the vacant lots where Satan flocks Get your smocks I'm illustrating like Ernie Barnes High alarm, get suited for the body farm Hard bottoms see him in church to send him on The chopper operate like blenders on red dawn Detroit taliban clan when the war is on No white sheets unless the coroner comes My height reach from bright peaks to lost slums I shoot the fair one with 2 guns drawn [Hook] [Phillie] You niggas dead already, necessary roughness I'm charged like an ever ready Built like a hemi in me, Spit like a semi in me Raised in a pot hole, all I know is gimme gimme One hundred percent dudes is 50-50, it's that Wisemen Banging your door down, banging that 4 pound Suuuuuuu! Coming with more rounds, Wisemen laying the law down, Phillie-Oso I lust dough to my crew the utmost I'm cut throat, cut your throat for being cut close I got a busload of niggas with artillery Keep all my chicks presidential like Hillary Highly complicated guy, most can't figure me Visit every hospital, ain't nobody sick as me Give me straight shots, no ice in my Hennessey Married to the mob like my pops from Sicily [Kevlaar 7] Until I'm gone shadow the synagogues Sincere genius, swallow sinister thoughts Pen potent some men die for the moment Seven gat salute, strong arm atonement Who want it, super clutch MCs poignant Roll the dice, throw, the rice, good morning Married to the sounds gamble with the gods Lost city's warning, guns shots applause Boulevard results Jean-Michel Basquiat Ratchet repertoire, I'm part of death wish 4 Blame God yo, he's still got my heart beating When a witness call, brainwaves stop Deadly sin the seventh raid the block Wolves in sheep's clothes is these fangs or not Forecast exquisite paint rain with life liquids New climate, typhoons and mental reaches [Hook] [Bronze Nazareth] Needle without the dope track, Clan without the rope stash Millimeters, nine float in my coat, black Africanized kill bees inside the smoke stack We still dope like old crack Gold plaque stats, we was raised in the cold trap The type to shatter your dreams and slash you with the broke glass Stealing my cream that's the opposite of cold cash Suuuuuuuuuuu! West Detroit, empty the whole mag I'll make 'em get to the point, end of my cold blade Exquisite scripts, you follow the road laid Need a tip? I got a few hollows, Catch 'em like Bo Scaife, Catch 'em ride Bo Scaife