K.M.D. - Sorcerers Lyrics

Lyrics Sorcerers - KMD



He's not that cat
Got that, and he never shot that gat
Clever spot rats
Face plate glisten
He got fat and hate for Jake the Snake Plissken
Y'all got the wrong tape by mistake
Listen to it, fissin'
Crack the safe, his cake's missing
Bats to break to tape this to make in prison
Fake dissing
Bake that the wake twisting
Legend stature
Since the prime factor
Of the blast master
Give the gab mic wrapper rapper ever
Facts with terror
Like bad meaning good though
I'm talking some of the finest juice to ever bang in your hood, yo
World notoriety
Recognized by mad society
We supplanting High five so fly
Oh my, skies clear as day
Go sit down in the sunshine
Taking rappers out like lunch time
It's Just one of those
Bullet holes deliver killer notes
Silence never spoke violence
Keep quiet while you wildin' try to live the island
Nonsense left a column of 80 G's behind him
Still crime affects time on the island
Nickel and diming the hustle's optional
Powerful moves
Copped two work shifts block, sigh, giga 2
Under the table
The tammy food blaze with
Stay paid if the name fits you
Who went back and made y'all the boss of us
It's the rawest MC's that floss like
Sorcerers
It's furthering the era that most know of
Everywhere he go they go
That hoes show love
Thank god for the buddha
Tank armor suitor
Word kama sutra user
Stank mama recruiter
Broad set fools up
Dawg get your jewels up (buddha)
Get your jewels up
Get your jewels up
Superstar, all pro
Homegrown
The crash speaks alone
Mastered this closed casket
Pro savages
Poor travelers, hunger reach streets battlers
Money the dollar the dream gaffled up
Scalpel cut broke
Dope gettin' that smoke definite
Gold record hits spin it grind forever get it
Dodge clever building Cheddar feeling
Keep the better living
Miscellaneous thoughts
Getting millions
Know that feeling
You've had enough of that
85 job talking
Loonie schemes
Something right off the movie screens
Burn Hollywood like arson
More powers than Austin
Sound awesome
Pump these sounds often
Last chance to come off son
For more to come in the mental auditorium
Without forcing him
Strung him up on the last joint but it don't stop
Doing this so the world could rock
Who blows spots?
Mommy look, he talking to himself
And walking fast
On the ave haulking ass
With the walkman on blast
Coby headphones whack
At least he knows it's only chrome casette
Only the best you can get off the black market
Tell it
Find these truer hell strategies
Sell it like, Chinese dude that sell batteries
Two dollar for change for a aqua blue benjie
These were brand new
He grew stingy gingerly



Writer(s): Daniel Thompson, John Robinson, Michael Robinson


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