Originators Songtext
von 9th Prince
Originators Songtext
Yo, word up
This right here is an explosion
For all the radio stations
Across United Nations, United States
Word up, turn this up right here
Aiyyo, aiyyo
Originators became gladiators
God body regulators, we street educators
I was born through the womb of Linda G. Hamlin
She′s the creator of the terminator, 9th Prince rhyme slayer
Stapleton housing projects, razors, machine gun blazers
At your neighbors, Jamaican rum no chaser
Number one contender, we can bust guns after dinner
Last man standing, he's the winner
Ghetto prime minister, Desert Storm ski mask avengers
We move like ninjas in the winter
Brown skin Adonis, slug to the stomach
Blood gush like Ramic, mad man′s bionic
Check the weather climate, strike like lightning
Terrorist Islamic
A ghetto superhero like Marvel comics
Vertical limits, fresh notebooks
I write anthems of crooks image
Cross the line to scrimmage, I'll shoot you in your temple
And leave your face shattered with dimples
Killaarm could never be so simple
Cross my heart, I won't die until your ass is crippled
In a wheelchair, knee cap raps
Flashbacks of digital warfare
Yo, I wanna say what up to everybody
That copped our first and second album
Word up, y′all real troops out there, yo
Aiyyo, my lions run through club cheetahs with busted heaters
That blast like lyrical heat seekers through the speakers
Non-believers are deceivers
Through the media, lyrics by the teacher
I walk through Harlem like Black Caesar
Razor blades stashed inside the sole of my sneaker
Ill graphics, far from a savage
The streets is wicked like Halloween havoc
Little children with automatics
Imagine babies drive-bys in a carriage
Rappers is like Peter Pan
I′m built like Sandman on the desert land
I'm from Shaolin, my sword is a mic stand
Used to swell your glands
9Th Prince is in command of the stage
My heart pumps rage like a jungle lion trapped inside a cage
I free the slaves through the airwaves of Hot 97 airplay
All my real soldiers wave your AK′s and hand grenades
Word the fuck up
The 9th Prism
The new millennium
Peace and blessings to all the five boroughs
Brooklyn, Manhattan, Staten, word up
Queens, you know, Long Island, upstate
Connecticut, the whole tri-state
New Jers', peace and blessings to Killaarm
We armed and dangerous, for real
The new millennium, get ready
One love, two loves, three loves
This right here is an explosion
For all the radio stations
Across United Nations, United States
Word up, turn this up right here
Aiyyo, aiyyo
Originators became gladiators
God body regulators, we street educators
I was born through the womb of Linda G. Hamlin
She′s the creator of the terminator, 9th Prince rhyme slayer
Stapleton housing projects, razors, machine gun blazers
At your neighbors, Jamaican rum no chaser
Number one contender, we can bust guns after dinner
Last man standing, he's the winner
Ghetto prime minister, Desert Storm ski mask avengers
We move like ninjas in the winter
Brown skin Adonis, slug to the stomach
Blood gush like Ramic, mad man′s bionic
Check the weather climate, strike like lightning
Terrorist Islamic
A ghetto superhero like Marvel comics
Vertical limits, fresh notebooks
I write anthems of crooks image
Cross the line to scrimmage, I'll shoot you in your temple
And leave your face shattered with dimples
Killaarm could never be so simple
Cross my heart, I won't die until your ass is crippled
In a wheelchair, knee cap raps
Flashbacks of digital warfare
Yo, I wanna say what up to everybody
That copped our first and second album
Word up, y′all real troops out there, yo
Aiyyo, my lions run through club cheetahs with busted heaters
That blast like lyrical heat seekers through the speakers
Non-believers are deceivers
Through the media, lyrics by the teacher
I walk through Harlem like Black Caesar
Razor blades stashed inside the sole of my sneaker
Ill graphics, far from a savage
The streets is wicked like Halloween havoc
Little children with automatics
Imagine babies drive-bys in a carriage
Rappers is like Peter Pan
I′m built like Sandman on the desert land
I'm from Shaolin, my sword is a mic stand
Used to swell your glands
9Th Prince is in command of the stage
My heart pumps rage like a jungle lion trapped inside a cage
I free the slaves through the airwaves of Hot 97 airplay
All my real soldiers wave your AK′s and hand grenades
Word the fuck up
The 9th Prism
The new millennium
Peace and blessings to all the five boroughs
Brooklyn, Manhattan, Staten, word up
Queens, you know, Long Island, upstate
Connecticut, the whole tri-state
New Jers', peace and blessings to Killaarm
We armed and dangerous, for real
The new millennium, get ready
One love, two loves, three loves
Writer(s): Terrance Hamlin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
