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letra de dichotomy - jean grae

[verse 1: jean grae]
who got the death clutch with hands cold as ice gripping the steel knife?
my nights spent drinking, holding on to bitter life
it ain’t worth it. my body’s fragile on the surface
my mind ready to exit this physical place
my soul verses. everything up on the planet worthless
sent to h-ll, watching flames coming from your churches
send all your nurses—my sickness inflicted from curses
the antidote extracted from the lines within my verses
immortal burning, we light the l for higher learning
and pour bacardi out for all the n-ggas ‘rеady turned in
preaching devil sеrmon, gnawing. concern is wrong
our fasting broke to make the year the holy ramadan
the muslim-born child that recited a cruel storm
that sp-wned on 11/26, the break of dawn
see, all songs are reckless. my words stand strong
my life’s short like the blasts from bombs in lebanon
self-prophecy: my body claim divine property
all scripted in the stars, mastered in astrology
can’t change it—the ill-fated destined to fall
no second-guessing or a question to all
laws of physics on the side of living and god the life giving
but dead to slice you like a devil psyched upon the children
villainous ways ‘cause, these last days, n-ggas hold
when i die, n-ggas pour the liquor for my crippled soul
my body fall like a deck of cards, smash like
a rented car, blacker than the hair of pat benatar
last show, n-ggas. i stand proud
kiss my moms for me, throw my ashes in the crowd
[verse 2: pumpkinhead]
keep your glock on c-ck when you drop through my zone
we spit hot rocks at cops, chopping their domes
conceal weapons—you never be spotting the chrome
sipping on henny, rock with my n-gga, jerome
in the crib’s where i lay on a cold winter day
with your wife naked in her socks sipping on zay
got her legs spread eagle while i spit in them eggs
spit in them eggs, l!cking her face
at the same time, i display rhymes uplifting my race
i spit like a loaded luger, cripple your waist
i don’t give a f-ck, so i act suspicious to jake
on my block, sh-t is hot like a trip to l.a
time’s ticking away. i’m just living today
bag of choke, rum and coke, and it’s twisting my brain
no joke, we get low with a vision of pain
the pain i sustain in the game will wrinkle your veins
simple and plain, i walk the long-distance terrain
soaked brown paper bag displays the night train
sh-t’ll never change ‘cause we’re still living the same
step to me and my crew? you fricking insane?
position the flame, lifting your frame
if you p-ss in my name, duck when i cl!ck and i aim
o.b.s. be that clique d-cking your dame
boogie-night style with stripper sniffing the ‘caine, hip to the game
make a cat sitting on fangs spread wings like a crane
take flight through the night, crack sake
sipping on planes, international until i vanish
the baddest. only god know my status

- jean grae

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