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Artist: Bronze Nazareth
Album:  Thought for Food: Vol. 1 & 2
Song:   Grammy
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Bronze Nazareth]
Yo, pipe face, axe face, rubberband police chase
Heroin needle briefcase, a city need face
Gats face, faggot legs like Dave Maggot
Loose leaf, tight beef lean, cancer addict
Cold case, no face, stole bank rolls, thanks
Expose shanks, export blanks, fake thug ranks
Take drugs in basement clubs, come outside and shoot 'em down
Grow 'em down with the pound, ready on the ground
Like whirlwind, girls pearlsmen between limb
Rock them brims, jump in skins, pump the shins
Fatigue rock, we see clock, before we need stop
Respiration, best rock vest for less patience
A metal rocking for pocket locking, broccoli set
Where chain on bill fold, fold bills, two-fold
Old grimmace haze can break a witness face
Dead life in the headlight, vehicular homicide sight
C.S.I., speeding eye, see through seaping lies
Weak disguise guys, crack the bone above your eyes
Concrete of wars, a block as I world tours
Gun totes, spleen pokes, stab so vicious
Criminal intent, where law and order is missing
Movie subscription, steadily horror flick admission
Corners, alley's, long tenements in prisons
Life in Detroit, Atlanta, made in Havana
D.C., catch street bullets in your bandana
Watchtower like clock tower, my hands is ansy
Fuck the weak MC's, stab you with your own Grammies