New Year Banga

[Intro: Kevlaar 7] Yo, Wisemen... Bronze Nazareth... my nigga Phillie... Yo... Salute the Kid... [Kevlaar 7] It's a struggle on these streets, I'm the son, ya'll the seeds Innocent young M.C.'s, maturing into trees Seems I touch with the brush, Kevlaar never spoke much But one stroke of the Dutch, I smear pictures with breath tucks Touching the phat techs, I never handle, gripped the three eighty Shady, I got clocked on the mandible, bloodied my structure Got bagged, drunk on the streets, so wasted, all the jakes did Was deliver me home to my bed sheets, sleet and rain Blow east against the grain, I walk the bloody hills barefoot in the rain Stained 24 hours, two to finish this joint Annoint with holy water, Think Differently with a daughter And civilized planets, revolving around my son Sleepless nights, with a brain, full of banging guns A serenade of grenade, shave my pain with metal umbrellas Story tellers and hustlers, funnel the strugglers restless Fall to my knees, in the lab, asking the most high to help us [Phillie] It's been a long road, God knows, got me a strongehold Palms so sweaty, legs feel like spaghetti Yet now I think I'm ready, so long as the lord'll bless me When I came from crumbs and sold drugs like ecstasy Hung with killas, dodged bullets, to the next degree Was wrong, like sex to me, to dead you in the streets Over some shit you said to me, Think Differently, whatever Just let it be, somebody fired my chef, I got the recipe With this rap shit, I'm a wolf, ahead of sheep Press meat, for the slaughter, I'm Nino to the Carter Something you don't want a part of, with the heart of David Against Goliath, you know this time, and stop playing It's time for mic strangling, while life's are left dangling In the violence, no lights, no cameras, just live action Whether triggers are written, it's all real Pencils are reinforced with steel, I got to live [Bronze Nazareth] Back in '94, I know math's calling your drawer Flyers bust on it, ground work layed, dues paid Dutch sauce waves calling, the streets is empty Til my veins stay bubbling, that booth, my ice suit I win your mic in a dice shoot, and any man who walk through hell Will similary feel like I do And vision my inscription, you see where I slept Sat at the edge of an avalanche cliff, you see where I step Think Differently in infamy, the most on slept Equipped with gems, to blow the mind like turpan Thai wine Keep the unstoppable odds in my stable, with the free cable box To pay for studio locks, I rob big locks Think not, of the Wise, my death color rhymes'll drain your colored eyes Look what, I discover, rise Without credit checks, bought that board, fucked our credit ever since So it better work, instead of a beretta to work Slitter my lurk, Gun Rule, Bermuda Tri-borough Years later, on the furlow...