Blazin Mic's

[T-Bone] I'm sweet like cinnamon when I'm spittin this lyrical venom Givin the rappers the blues like denim When I'm killin em, fillin 'em wit these syllable Synonyms of adrenaline spillin off my spiritual tongue Then numbin 'em like penicillin Plus I'm tryin to reach the lost like Gilligan God willin The spiritual healin will stop the drug dealin and killin Because I'm feelin like I'm ready to lose my mind So many bullets be flyin' and rydas be dyin Gotta make a difference for instance The inmates in prison make a bad decisions for lack of wisdom So I cut them open and make incisions, fill 'em wit spiritualism Tell 'em bout the one that's arisen How they can be free in they spirit and have their sins forgiven By the one who died upon the cross Cuz even when they were into all their drinkin and smokin He loved them even when they were lost So please listen to me and stop dissin' a G Cuz I got they remedy on how ya'll can be free [Hook] Blazin.... Microphones Bringin nothin but that, Heat.... From the West Coast Chase beats, Bone lyrics like Vito..... Corleone We be runnin things so act like... You All know Boneyard can't be stop now [T-Bone] I'm not a Jehovah's witness But I witness, for Jehovah Back in the day, the first to slang cane, and bakin soda But nowadays I like preachin the Word Like a drug dealer slangin' Holy rock on the curb Eyes blurred off the Holy Ghost Contact smoke gotcha trippin of my rims, crushed ice and my rope Plus I'm gifted wit flows and wrist is frozen I thought you all knew dawg, I'm God's chosen Highly favored, standin wit the elite that stands apart dawg Anointed, bring the Word to the streets Ain't entertainin the fame or the set you claimin The game of namin, unless the name I'm namin Is Jesus on the throne and reignin', paintin a picture for G's bangin On how the Lord can save em, train 'em like a Baltimore Raven Engravin the name of Jesus across their heart, cuz it's breakin Plus Satan is waitin, anticipatin and hatin but once we got em There ain't no escapin [Hook] [T-Bone] I been doin this for 12 years, it ain't easy ya'll To make hit records that are off the heazy ya'll Especially when them bustas sippin on the haterade Talkin behind your back and tryin to stop ya on day to day I dont' make music for them playa hatas any way This is for killers and thugs that's sippin on the Alize Run aways and ese's locked down in prison, why em The one's in need of a physician and I know the perfect Doctor Ya'll that can heal you when you answer to the altar call He can fill all the emptiness and void in your heart That's why I rhyme out of need and not for love of the art So listen, my only mission is soul fishin So when the rapture happens Faces will be on the back of milk cartons missin [Hook]