Solomon Childs War
[Intro: Solomon Childs]
Yeah... finally, right?
I know how you feel
[Chorus: Solomon Childs]
Him? Please... Them? Please
They... don't... want... war....
[Solomon Childs]
War by pamphlets, I rest like little Hudson Lebanon
When I was nine, I crazy glued Megatron
Got my Ray Caruse throwback on, poverty got me strucken
Sometimes I wonder what was the sense in rushing
Never should of played the corners
At a young age, was witnessed to the murders on the corners
Roamers, brain tumors, Mountain Loretta group home tutors
From the white boy neighborhood, stole scooters
As I got older, went for the bigger prize
Like the diamonds and rugers
While all the M.C.'s front like they Godfathers and killas
Nothing but lies in they neighborhood thrillers
I rep street life thrillers, with style and flow
That delivers like the Alpine rivers
[Chorus]
[Solomon Childs]
Time for the mags to come out, let me tell what the mags be about
Magazines and magnums, back to the subject
A body bags in ransom, informats around the way working with the feds
The feds and cracks, the same, they both kill
Intense drama, I hear your heart pounding, like you running on tredmills
Three eighties with nine millimeter shells, funeral time
Muthafuckas sound off the church bells
Be up the blocks with twelve twelves, nowadays, f..ck the world
Beat my dick to gun books, time's so real, beef cooks
The hammers, my only girl, but bitches love a real crook
And if whatever it is, it's dead and cold, I ain't scared to look
[Chorus 2X]
[Outro: Solomon Childs]
So, what I'm talking about, is
Whether you my man or not
Sitting there listening to this song
You violate, nigga, I clap you too
Don't give a f..ck if I need bitches, I will smoke
So what nigga?