Trust is a concept already known
Each and every project I've started has grown
Up until the day that concept has gone
Gone by the wind the mother fucker has blown
Blown with the forces of King Solomon
Duck to escape the debris from the bomb
Ten times heavy than the massive King Kong
Trust is a concept already known
Strong ain't enough to keep up, now go home
Where mama kept the applepie sweet and warm
35 degrees but the pool was your own!
Thinking bout the day that trust will be gone
You don't like the shit your mind has just born
An evil concept for the future you saw
With your eyes closed. It don't wanna go!
So blow the fuckin' principles
And try to say no!
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Thinking about the white, white stylee...
All of them nation for the stylee...
Some of the are killin' all of them gangstas
And all of them are killin' the entire world
But some of them are jammin
Till the break of dawn is coming
And they are killing their bodies
Till the fat is gone for good
Some of the are black, some of them are white
Some of them are war combatans all night
Some of them are politicians,
Some of them are tacticians
Some of them are practicians,
All of them: a nation
Thinking about the punana, thinking about career
Thinking about how many money could they make in one year
Bad babylon burn bredda but I am man of men
Me get the microphone, callin up for Zion!
Thinking about the punana, thinking about career
Thinking about how many money could they make in one year
Bad babylon burn bredda but I am man of men
Me get the microphone, callin up for Zion!
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Thinking about the white, white stylee...
All of them nation for the stylee...
(Listen to this:)
Ask him if he is the one from the street
The one that you put your entire trust in
The same that the other day was giving you a thing
The same that today is taking away the same thing
Are you ready for the war?
Trust is a concept already known
Each and every project I've started has grown
Up until the day that concept has gone
Gone by the wind the mother fucker has blown
Blown with the forces of King Solomon
Duck to escape the debris from the bomb
Ten times heavy than the massive King Kong
Trust is a concept already known
Strong ain't enough to keep up, now go home
Where mama kept the applepie sweet and warm
35 degrees but the pool was your own!
Thinking bout the day that trust will be gone
You don't like the shit your mind has just born
An evil concept for the future you saw
With your eyes closed. It don't wanna go!
So blow the fuckin' principles
And try to say no!
Some of the are killin' all of them gangstas
And all of them are killin' the entire world
But some of them are jammin
Till the break of dawn is coming
And they are killing their bodies
Till the fat is gone for good
Some of the are black, some of them are white
Some of them are war combatans all night
Some of them are politicians,
Some of them are tacticians
Some of them are practicians,
All of them: a nation
Thinking about the punana, thinking about career
Thinking about how many money could they make in one year
Bad babylon burn bredda but I am man of men
Me get the microphone, callin up for Zion!
Thinking about the punana, thinking about career
Thinking about how many money could they make in one year
Bad babylon burn bredda but I am man of men
Me get the microphone, callin up for Zion!
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Me get the microphone! Wicked stylee...
Thinking about the white, white stylee...
All of them nation for the stylee...