mad. - ministry.of.truth lyrics
[verse 1: jay masta]
let me talk steam, making you all scream!
the seconds you all see me break ’em and toss schemes
and take ’em to boss league and make em to force dreams
and faking ’em all in to get baked and get lost in
i set the tape to start but yo, i ain’t got tossed in
it’s all deltas fault i rap, now im lost and
with my head and my foreskin trapped, it’s exhausting
like snapday’s cr*p but since, i’m gettin the boss win
“now brother listen closely”
i am the boss, gee
messiah is lost, gee, if i had to talk free
when i likе to walk instead of going to parties
i seem like a dork, gee, a dog, i bark, gee
to thе fog i smoke and all the herbs i toke, gee
the frogs that jump and all that girls that joke, gee
a saga woke when i explode and i won’t be
the brother gettin’ poked ’cause i ain’t no trophy, no joke
[hook: jay masta]
don’t run ya mouth ’cause you might get shot
’cause brothers mad on the corner of the block
’cause they be doing mad things to get by, and mad things to get high
’cause really living is a h*ll of a lie, and just remember, yo:
don’t run ya mouth ’cause you might get shot
’cause brothers mad on the corner of the block
’cause they be doing mad things to get by, and mad things to get high
’cause really living is a h*ll of a lie
don’t you even think to give it up, give it a try
give it a try, these mad times passing all by
willingly fly, feel a never*ever ending high
these mad times’ll go on by, go on by
don’t you even think to give it up, give it a try
give it a try, these mad times passing all by
willingly fly, feel a never*ever ending high
these mad times’ll go on by, go on by!
[verse 2: simple sceme]
three more barista, two hennys n‘ a twista
my self and i, after we finish up the blister
my mind larger than ya shiznits, i said it!
buckle up your stature and straighten up your digits
speed!… watch me manage off my rodeo
scema on the radio, it’s sencillo in stereo
f*ck subliminal, it’s time to get political
sceema boom*bap federal in general
i cross lands with my iller gimmicks
as long as rythmics keep the good statistics hit
the whole lit pit’s bit, limp bizkit type sh*t
mui loco * this tropical trip makes me listen to my
plan b by the spot
as simple as it gets still sceemin’ on tha block, take it personal
they ain’t raised by the streets
they layin’ in the bedsheets, hiding from the deal when it gets real
[hook: jay masta]
don’t run ya mouth ’cause you might get shot
’cause brothers mad on the corner of the block
’cause they be doing mad things to get by, and mad things to get high
’cause really living is a h*ll of a lie, and just remember, yo:
don’t run ya mouth ’cause you might get shot
’cause brothers mad on the corner of the block
’cause they be doing mad things to get by, and mad things to get high
’cause really living is a h*ll of a lie
don’t you even think to give it up, give it a try
give it a try, these mad times passing all by
willingly fly, feel a never*ever ending high
these mad times’ll go on by, go on by
don’t you even think to give it up, give it a try
give it a try, these mad times passing all by
willingly fly, feel a never*ever ending high
these mad times’ll go on by, go on by!
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