Blenders - Bronze Nazareth

Yeah!

Uh!

Thought for Food, Volume 3

Bronzeman, he’s back

Yes, I’m back, man

Shout out to Motown, Gun Rule (It's me, Jesus Feet)

All my niggas, yeah!

Ayo

What’s swag sauce when I’m coughing up jewelry?

The hottest man near the slaughterhouse, surely

With better promo, the fans would know accordingly

I chop the track up and send it to my orderlies

I’m on a beast’s mission, most consistent when you hear it

Hip-Hop's dead?

I’m at award shows in spirit

106 and Park, kid flows can never feel it

Tunnel through the dark mentals, forever feel it

Moved off Joy Rd.

I still see it healing

Still hear the gunshots and I build with the victims

Street minister, administer my wisdom

Not a gangster, but check my trunk, see what’s in it

Might see me sinnin', blowing bags off Lyndon

On Cherrylawn, lower flags for kingpins

Salute the mission, we shoot we not missin'

Timb boots still in my kitchen, in the basement, the henchmen

In the palm, what I’m clenchin', make a nigga memory ancient

If he get anxious the spark dances

This some District 36 shit, daily wig split

Burglary and homicide, where my uncle Bobby died

That’s right, I got people from here to the Amistad

Oh my God, pull my gun if they run up to try and rob

Through the midst of the blunted cigars

I’m not moving for nobody, I’ve made it this far

How can they say such a thing!

(Made it this far)

Why do we do the things we do?

It’s gets off track and it it it, it gets all mixed up in politics!

It It gets all mixed up in hierarchy!

It gets all mixed up in rules and regulations!

And it argues over the poor man in the ditch!

And winds up passing him by, and God has to use a heathen Samaritan to pick him

up!

Take his Gospel to the furtherest corners of the globe, and nothing else

matters!!!