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Artist: Bronze Nazareth
Album:  Thought for Food, Vol. 1
Song:   Bronze Naz-a-reth
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Intro: Bronze Nazareth]
Yo, it's the mixtape, nigga
Get it, steal it from somebody, nigga
Download it, fucking bootleg it, whatever you gotta do
Nigga, get it, nigga, get it, Thought for Food
Bronze Nazareth, get it, nigga, get it
Fuck is wrong with you...
Yo, carry grudges, yeah... yo, yeah, yeah

[Bronze Nazareth]
Yeah, carry grudges like it's my vengeance
Bury hatchets like it's my business, my sentence blends
Like fatigues in an Iraqi village, honest feelings I'm appealing
Masters to catch this, Wu draft pick
Alphabet classic, blast from lost address
Where clouds stay black like Jackson State graduates
Ask your saint advocate, who went through lashes from whips
Bashed when they blasted the fifth
Choke from what was green on the other side of the fence
Fence with dragon head swords, mind bent, brag to the lord
Old ragged and poor, stuffed the minotaur
Blow up an MC synoguoge, fuck you up
Blame it on Bush and Powell, Uncle Tom's in the house
Poppin' a bottle, rather be knockin' my model
Then poppin' a hollow, and marshmallows, heart's fellow
Dark vello's, plus they hear rocking metal
And cop some petals, for the beggar when Chi Chi step through
I bless you with murder slang, tattoo your vertebre
Blade Trinity hurting fangs, we lurk and sting
You know who it is, kid, I really mean it

[Chorus: Bronze Nazareth]
Bronze Naz-a-reth, he's coming for you
Coming for you, coming for you, coming for you
Bronze Naz-a-reth, I'm coming for you
Coming for you, coming for you, coming for you
Bronze Naz-a-reth, I'm coming for you
Coming for you, coming for you, coming for you
Bronze Naz-a-reth, I'm coming for you
Coming for you, coming for you, look out

[Bronze Nazareth]
Strangle angels cuz they not watching
That's why no flowers in the ghetto blossom
I peddle violence like my mind's sick with science, catch this tip hollow
Catch this spit cyclone, I write poems and teach man
And if I can't reach men, then atleast came from these lands
Each hand is weathered, second to eighteenth letter
Cipher sideways Z, rotated N
By the second vowel, then you got Hebrew is him
In a as spark classic, crack sodas with ratchets
With classic flows like brothas to take you to Saturn
Grateful dead pattern, that came from lead cavern
I break the bread fastest, and wake the dead masses
Put 'em to sleep once they hear metal fragments
Of imagination, fuck a collaboration
And my song statement's that travel to space stations
A great plane, mountain tundra, fountains of thunder
Vivid the boxer style like slippers and socks
Don't mix, like niggas and socks, like shiver from hot
Silence the air, cowards beware, I'm airing our bitches here
Fuck your great Brazilian, you bitch, buy my album
I strike like falcons, while the iron is hot
Firing shots that bring sirens and cops when my music stop


[sample from "The Bad and The Beautiful"]
The night before we started shooting, I came back from Palm Springs
I tried to sleep, I couldn't
I don't know what drew me to shooting, shooting, shooting