Public Enemy - Muse Sick-N-Hour Mess Age

Stop In The Name...

Full fledgin never sat on my legend
No shuffle or shoulder shruggin
Uncle Tommin nickel and dime rhymin
This renegade rippin
Rugged tracks I love it
Sorta black owned
Like da denver nuggets
Pow pow
The original
Harder hitter
Is back in black
On deck wit a turtleneck
Uh ha you can drink
All you want
But hard don't make

Da liquid matter you intake
The logical
Sorta psychological
Brother like butter spread to one
Another
Thicker da blunt and got sicker
Once upon a rhyme all bigger
Meant was for bigga cotton picker
Leave alone
The men from the mice
Who twice packs da gatt
Turn into dirty ratts
I'm comin wit the antidote, I hope they cope
To da rhythm I wrote
Pawns in da game
Goin down da drain
Final call to my race in pain

Credits
Writer(s): Carlton Douglas Ridenhour
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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