Tekster: Dub Sonata. On The Arm. Philosophical Gangsta.

(feat. Bizzy Bone)

Alright lets hear that shit you been playin with
(the fortunate one uses the instrument of (?) meditation)
(philosophical gangsta)
(don?t be talking about no drugs and no prophecies? around here)
(and don?t listen to that street talk, cause that street talk is dead)
(philosophical gangsta)

Walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Flesh and blood, evil keep questionin us
We bust, lay back in the cut
Sinister (minds they blind us?) soon as you find it toss your diamonds
Nibble that tree of science he thinks he?s laughin at Bryon
He don?t know that he gone keep on tryin
Whatever he thinks that he?s telling her won?t be no buyin from earth
That planet Orion from birth
I?m twisting the stomach from hella spices like cayenne
Hit ?em with trifectors the fruit of that nectar?s dyin
I am what I am changed switch it up like Outkast
Everyone thought that Andre was crazy now he gets the bypass
Time trickle like hourglass, who ready to ride
(buh) quit snitchin I know that it?s cold outside
Whether with gold or not, better know we bold outside
I?d rather not take a bath, and feelin all dirty inside
But its pretty inside, look at all the girlies inside
So what, we hearin the mission but that mission aint mine
For all the wicked wisdom they find and they blind
(Better act cruel one of the mat????)
walk the streets look for the rabbi
While sippin on a mai tai
Talk to religious figures while lookin down at the skyline
Worship no graven images bye bye
(god go where he wanna go?)
Let you know what he want you to know
You know how its wrote- your heart, your mind, your soul
Walkin through the scriptures where all of the saints preceded that
I?m weeded up, but of course the people don?t believe in that
Leadin back, demons in my dreamin holdin my semen back
Salty like Saddam watchin Amora, check the almanac
Never had no friends and if I did then they left
They so scared, for who to be crucified, still gone lose your breath
Now get up get out since they got doubt
You thought that I would let you get away without exposin your smell
There aint nothing you can do and there aint nothing you can say (3x)
Break bread and throw the bread in your face

You better believe
(philosophical gangsta)
(don?t be talking about no drugs and no prophecies?? around here)
There aint no comin back from a Bizzy Bone
You better believe
(and don?t listen to that street talk, cause that street talk is dead)
(philosophical gangsta)
(you aren?t afraid are you?)
(NOO! No no no)
(philosophical gangsta)

(Thanks to Long for these lyrics)