Wisemen Approaching

[Intro: Bronze Nazareth] The Sun'll fall before I lose... Yeah... put your dice up on this shit, man... Throw your bags out, kid, get the shit ready... Yo... heavy as the Chevy... yo, yo [Bronze Nazareth] A blow nicely like Ron Isley Word dice, we roll, Mice or Men, behold Ice grill on my '86, slice the pie slightly Flee or fight me, end up floating up in Bightley I scope and deliver, rhyme quote Gran Turismo Drown you in a sea of nickels, sip a fifth slow Crash around the main bent, straight, no chaser Silencer on the mic stand, scope no laser My bitches stand heels, tie up around the calf shields Leaving movie reels, exquisite ruby hills Glance and feel the dreams, dirty as Bronson Head filled with more schemes, than snakes in the garden I tippy toe like Samurai, slit a throat, don't stand by Interview in fields of landmines, perform live During outbreaks, Ebola virus, outline the mic case Pace gracefully faster than swimmer from shark I'm known for a spinning darts toward your melenin in dark Stopping ain't at number one without a shotgun Platinum platinum, or just Bronze, I'm out, one [Chorus: Bronze Nazareth] The Wisemen Approaching, we come from the hills Leave your science books open, counting all the shells Approaching a black hoody, Timb size twelve Escape with the knowledge of self, polish your health [Phillie] M.C.'s who believe I'm not king of Detroit Indestructable, like a bullet proof Rolls Royce The common choice, I bring fire to the beef Fuck mic fights, we can get it on in the streets It's calm and usually peace, beyond the Cuban Linx I see wild times, of sound mind, be cautious who we meet Gave a sigh of relief, when Bronze finally got a piece In a magazine, catastrophe for all wack M.C.'s New begins, revolutionize, organize the business Your rap kinds is bygones, so long to pretending Return of the gutter and grit, the streets have been thirsting for this Since Re-Birth of a Prince, back to Niggas who spit, darts that shatter bricks Grimey as a park bench, built in a cement Sick like a Cedar Point trip, mobster down When a roller coast' erupt until now, that's on some old shit [Chorus] [Kevlaar 7] Build my lab with black bricks, sip the liquor frequent On Sam Cooke nights, my mind sits inside the precent Indecent as delinquets, running cash to the street pimps Hethens deal stones, to clones in an oasis Gates is open, I stole the pens out the hinges Blair Witch darkness, I need a harness, I travel so far Park the '84, and saw a scene so raw Take one, I'm straight, son, we niggas running from our caper Invade a brother mind, and resurrect, the records crackle My derelict speech, at the speed of a statue My face don't move, my words, they show and prove Disect the earth plates, and exhale a sandstorm Transform and crash with impacts of 9/11 7 Kevlaar, God, me or the reverend [Salute] They say you are what you speak, so I read the truth Heard the beat in my sleep, wrote my thoughts in the booth If it's war, I'm on the line, first nigga to shoot Pulling nines, like a nigga with a pain his tooth Dark clouds got me feeling like I'm caught in the phase How I'm living, not the sick kind, bundles and trays Hustle hard, can't survive, pitching minimum wage Seeing glory in the middle, but I'm lost in the maze Blame the concrete jungle for my animal ways I ain't saying I'm the greatest, but the one in the flesh Place the game like my blood line was mixed with Artest Ain't no cameras round here, got the media scared Just a bunch of niggas hoodied up and fully prepared Wisemen, so I do, wise things, believe From the 'jects, no regrets, my respect, no easy Shit is dope, what make it even harder to cope Seeing hell, not the light, through the end of the scope [Chorus]