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Cultured Pearls - Street Monopoly lyrics
[9th Prince]
 Yoaw! I'm 'bout to torture the phone, the phone piece
 Leave it deceased, six feet deep
 The 9th Prizm, Mad Mizm, get up in 'em
 Aiyyoaw, aiyyoaw
 Lord of your majesty and generosity
 How could you possibly, try to rob me from my monopoly
 Ghetto property, street jeopardy
 Death mack celebrities, we pray for war,
 like the Russian military
 Enter the stage with a grenade, and a machete
 Stab you like Bloody Mary - I do this for convicts
 Takin niggas commisary
 Niggas ain't feelin me, I ain't feelin you either
 You ain't my brother, FUCK IT!
 Let's grab the nines and try to murder each other
 MOTHERFUCKER!!
 [Dom Pachino]
 Yo, millatic mind structure
 Dome bone crushers, stone busters, slugs muster
 Diamond clusters, don't even trust her
 Spanish kid the fun is over, make a party motor
 Call ya dojos, this man remind me of a soldier
 When I speak words cut air
 Stop your breathin, there's a lot of dues required of man
 You not recievin sneak, thievin niggas are bleedin
 Recievin aid on my V.I.
 I had my baby girl boof, via grenade
 Fuck around, in the bathroom nigga, you get slain
 We got those two there - if you act up there'll be a raid
 Razor blades, infected with AIDS
 I'd rather be a fat rap cat nigga that's paid
 [Chorus - Dom Pachino] 2xCultured Pearls - Street Monopoly - http://motolyrics.com/cultured-pearls/street-monopoly-lyrics.html
 It's past your bedtime
 Everybody out past twelve is gettin stuck
 We don't give a fuck!
 Close ya doors, close ya windows, we climb balconies
 To make it in this street monopoly
 [Killa Sin]
 Aiyyo this rap law, clap boars, crack jaws
 Snatch drawers, live war, nigga act raw, getcha back torn
 Hacksaw my way in, gats no displayin 'em
 You, light up the skyline, I'm clappin at'cha cranium
 Ain't no stoppin my flow, like dominoes drop
 Geronimo! Toss him out the Tahoe naughty gotta go
 Eighty on the Verizano, hyrdo bottle, mind boggle
 Cop sergeant chasin, we escapin by a narrow margin
 Camuoflage Large killas, bitin off ya squad
 Get you no love, but die-hard fans might throw slugs
 [Islord]
 Picture the God gettin caught off guard, that shit is ab-surd
 I hold my square down very superb-ly
 It be the Islord with the sword
 Comin from the barrel of the Staten
 And rollin with, five live men
 Who got guard-junials on 'em
 Word is bond God I'm speakin the truth, the actual fact
 Step into my chamber, you get waxed
 Wordlife black, I'm mad nice with my life black
 Sacrifice the Zulu times twice
 For my son, live on the run, no lie ask around
 You might got, niggas who might wanna testify 'gainst the kid
 They get they biz chopped in half,
 and that's just part of my warpath...
[Chorus] 4x








