Artist: Mathematics f/ Buddah Bless, Hot Flames, Killah Priest Album: Wu-Tang Clan & Friends * UnReleased Song: U Don't Care Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: Killah Priest] Yeah, Math, yeah, Killah Priest, yeah [Killah Priest] I write movies, with colorful films of loose leaf Paper, for every line that I write with the paintbrush I color ink in, the pictures of gangstas The bullet in Lincoln to the blood on a stranger Conspiracy from vice laws to power rules To G.E.D. to the Cobra's Bible No survival, soul survival, tribal Like Africans in the villages, projects is the pyramids Weeded in the bricks, you see the four fifth Images, ain't nothing mysterious It's the true and living, been through the system Stay wise and afloat when you choose your wisdom [sample] Can I ask you something, why? Why did we soul this shit less down Why do we hate one another (Because...) We live in the same country as the white boy They aren't talking, hate themselves like we are (Man, them brothers are dying in the streets...) [Hot Flames] Picture my life through a crystal, the day I brought my first instrumental Still remember the verse that I put it to Born criminal, flow rare like an emerald Robbing dudes coming out of chemical If you ain't official, I ain't feeling you First you hear a bang, then a whistle, then it's filling you Admit it, when I'm killing you This is what a villain do, avoiding the cops Basketball hoop, nailed to my wall, playing ball with a sock Seen tough dudes calling a cop, weak dudes running the spot Street dudes running with glocks No chances, in crunch time, I'm running the clock Came up hard, like a caveman, never bought a statement Study the rules, just so I can learn how to break 'em If your soldier ain't on they job, didn't make 'em I hired new ones to replace them Got a lot of rap dudes, hearts racing, my style's sacred Rap game, I'm so anxious... so amazing [sample] Let the Gods be with you... [Buddah Bless] Where the trees at, dog? I'm smoking again Tell the fiends that the crack spot is open again I'm screaming, fuck the world, I'm fiending to fuck your girl I got my burner, bitch nigga, nail his back to murder Before I die, tryin' to get rich on a nine to five Rather die in a ditch with my nine and fives Cuz ya'll niggas get ready to war, take your guns Put 'em in the air, cock 'em back, get ready to brawl I know where you live, since brought mines, pop dog, I'm knowing your kids Since thug, non-stop, ya'll know what it is The streets is full of some shit I got the heat, and I'm pulling the clip How many bullets'll fit, fourteen, with one in the head You run around with one in your leg, painting the back streets Ain't the yac' sweet, I heard your fam came home from jail I hit 'em up, split 'em up, and send 'em home in the mail For the love of the game, non-stop until the whole world say I'm insane Quiet as kept, ask Pretty Tone, about the thug-a-hill, them down on the step And took drugs out of town from the left, yo My bitch is a hoe, and I ain't trippin' in gold Cuz I'm getting the dough, so ya'll niggas'll know This some bitch shit, dog, now you riding high Don't get your whip, hit, boy, when you riding by Even your niggas know you ain't no wolf Even your niggas know you ain't the truth Don't make my fam come around your way Don't make my mans gun you down today Love is love, nigga, other than that, slug for slug, nigga Fuck I look like, rolling dice With niggas that's just holding ice Bitch, that ain't your shine Muthafucka, it ain't your time For the bread, I bring it straight to your head Give me the loaf, give me that platinum rope And watch me turn it into crack and dope Cuz if this music don't do it, nigga, gats'll smoke If this music don't do it, nigga, gat's elope Picture me rolling in the six, take flicks of me holding On your bitch, nigga, picture me folding Up the chips and frame it, you know what the name of the game is Make money, make money, by any means Take money, take money, there's many schemes [sample] You ain't got no time for that shit (Maybe you don't, but I do)