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RZA
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Money Don't Own Me
Lyricist:Robert F Jr Diggs, A. Johnson, David D. Rose
My woman and my money don't own me I've got to keep holdin' my own
Heaven, heaven The dangerous dynamite dosage, mind full of explosives Digital brain is the closest to Moses Civilizin' came, the flame inside the holster Revitalize the game, the name's on the poster
The mask with no cape, the flash'll crush grapes The dancer on the lap, the ass with no face It's shaped like an ace, say your grace before you taste it Haste makes waste, slow down or you may waste it
The bunny in the car look like an Indian squall The honey's in the jar, the money's in the bra It's funny ha ha ha, how dummies, ha ha ha Think 'cause we call 'em sunny they can be a star
I implement the instrument, disintegrate the 10 percent You entered the square but you don't know where the circle went You ain't worth the cent, you cursed, I birthed the Prince Drenched the baby from creators that the nurses sent
You can't still convent, don't have seven cents Grave the raven, my birds are heaven sent Where the brethren went? Where the Reverend went? I told you these words are heaven sent
My woman and my money don't own me I've got to keep holdin' my own
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com It's time to show you how them rugged MC's rock If that's steel you see, it's that steel I pop If that Benz I want, it's that Benz I got Who rock them white tees first, get a West Cost props
Can't nobody do it better than the West Coast veteran Three six letterman, Monk's the name Black Knights the gang, I'll ignite the flames Strike my hood up on the wall and cross out your name
With a K on the end of it, that won't be the end of it 'Til them guns is drawn and you standin' on the end of it Poof be gone, I'ma write that wrong I'm the shit all by myself, nobody writes my song
Peep my technique, strictly gangsta classics Gun talk nigga, muthafuck theatrics My flow is matchless, ain't no way you could surpass this Level I'm on, better go home and try to practice
Why yes, am I next to impress D T S, bless the best, no cess Stress from guess to gold press The quest to protest, we head the Pro-Keds But this is the new improved shit '08 from the AMG, '92, bitch
My woman and my money don't own me I've got to keep holdin' my own
Keep holdin', keep holdin' Keep holdin', keep holdin', no
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