Sour Diesel lyrics

by

Killah Priest


['Next Friday' sample]
Say another muthaf*ckin' word, and this sh*t is over
And I ain't playing, n*gga
Now, you ain't got no gun
But where the weed at?

[Intro: 9th Prince]
This is what it is right? Word, yeah
This is what it's about, this is how it's going down?

[9th Prince]
Aiyo, I'm raw like Kane, blood stain the game
Revenge of the 9th Prince, selling like cocaine
Nobody knows my pain, strain on the brain
Last n*gga fronted, they found him slain
In the gutter, n*ggas is slipping like butter
That's when I heard a utter, shut-shut the muthaf*cka
I can't help it, the flow is so dangerous
Ya'll the most lameless, living shameless
Check out my guest watch, the diamonds on the bezel make the best watch
Pray that you will know the time just like a clock
I want Jay-Z and Lil' Wayne's spot
I was always taught, hip hop was an art, so play it smart

[Chorus 2X: Shyheim]
Sour diesel n*ggas get high everyday
n*ggas in the projects, every day, every way
Said, sour diesel n*ggas get high everyday
Project n*ggas, every day, every way
[Shyheim]
You want a chick like mines, a whip like mines
A four-fifth with a kit, that look like mines
That look like mines, he want a piece of the pie
You want to go to Cinderella's and throw ones in the sky
But you can't be I, big S-H-Y
Got crazy n*ggas on payroll, like S.S.I
Think he really want drama, for the rest of your life
It ain't easy, being greasy, my neezy, believe me
I got felonies, n*gga, got Big L in me n*gga
So the cells in me, n*gga, people taking my picture
The young God fisher, Bottom Up Militia
Getting richer and richer, and I'm a Staten Island n*gga
Should just be you, cuz you can't be
Bottom Up C.E.O., L.E.O. VP
Bottom Up C.E.O., L.E.O. VP
I'm Bottom Up C.E.O., L.E.O. VP

[Chorus 2X]

[William Cooper]
Ya'll must be blowing that sour, or sniffing that powder
You see the Black Market logo, my flow is the foulest
Spit in the face of cowards, drink Henny from a chalice
My strength that just, shake the walls of the palace
And I'm cut from the heavenly cloth, rose bearers
Drop petals at my feet when I walk
You know I carry that cross, kiss the ring and the boss
For snitch that wanna talk, yeah that things go off
You start to feel no remorse for the lies that's lost
Now you sing a sawed-off, that'll rip your limbs off
The homicide on the scene, yeah you line it in chalk
Buried in Ku Klux, while they still holding the pitchfork
Aiyo, live with the Prince of New York, the Pale Horse
And now he lit with his torch, burn diesel and never cough
Now I'm sitting in court, for aggrivated assault
b*tches asses, left the hospital on life support, come on
[Chorus 2X]
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