Kublai Khan Lyrics & Chords By Tragedy Khadafi

God hates me, never keep my banger on safety
My mother raised me alone, you can't break me
My hearts pumpin' the blood of Royce Gracie
My thoughts dumpin' the slug and point straightly

You rhyme 'fakely', you still scarred
I'm studying deep thoughts like Bill Mahr
I'm real raw, we just dumbin' it out
And y'all ain't sayin' nothin' with a gun in yo mouth

That's what I'm about, but Vinnie Paz go deeper
Y'all still under the spell of dose ether
The Grim Reaper, its all nature
And every word from Allah is on paper

We all hate ya, we can't stand you
Chapter 8, verse 3, book of Daniel
You like a candle, you just burn
You never worship Allah, you can't learn

Chemical space ships, see dust splits, hit from the Matrix
Pig Destroyer, Anakis kiss, splatter your patriots
Make coast stops, injectin' my pockets with Votox
Laytex bitches be chokin' on cock like Blow-Pops

My flows hot, my glocks like a popular friend
Sniffin' Oxy-Cotton, we rock till the popular says
Merciful fate, we at the gates, I hurt you for cake
Cause Red Planets like a Shit Magnet, it counters with Jay

Digital cuffs, runnin' from the D's and the fuzz
Gut you out, rock Gas Mask, bleedin' and stuff
Into the void like blue velvet, goons and clerics
New synthetic designer jewels for moods in deserts

In heaven and earth, barcodes to measure my girth
That's like the J.D.L. joinin' the zoo relation for turf
Birth of the solar, we did so, write for the cobra
God texts me, and we all stand with iced out clothes


Check it.. yo.. yo

Now where it be's like, niggas wanna stay tight, I stay right
Face fight, get your weak, split, shit then I spit
Most accurate, Flex writin' back a bit
Range on the side of it Yo I'm tryin' to get a lot of it

I rock that exotic shit, spit the hottest shit
Yo trial, might get the same time ya ought a get
Death before dishonor shit, gangster persona shit
Jedi Mind, 2-5 is who I'm probably with

When I'm tryin' to score the third, its who I holler with
Yo hood, its my project, exchange objects
Yo guns for my teks, yo range for my lex
Q.B. to Philly, we control sets

I stay splurgin', heads stay wrapped in Turbans
Tighter than a Virgin of Ford Excursion, nigga
So how you figure that we don't be reppin'
Hoes sell weapons in the Dodge Intrepid, nigga

Yo Stoupe, what up baby, what's good
Jedi Mind, the gracious, 2-5 collabo
Gangsta global
They dropping bombs and shit