Breeze lyrics
by Sean Price
[Verse 1]
God, the original black man
Sean, the criminal gat, blam
Real n*ggas lick shots, peace Connecticut
P etiquette of speech leave speech impediment
Your bars delicate
Gentle cycle,, nobody don't like you
Politely the knife strike you
Scarred in the yard
That's what the God kites do
Beat box is spittin'
Keep shot, P pop, you keep locked in friction
I let Bernadette punch you
Without a concern cause you heard what the vet gun do
Burner to your face Ruck is crazy
Murder was the case that they gave P
You was never hot
Assassinate your dream to a King and Coretta Scott