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Artist: Bronze Nazareth f/ Salute
Album:  Thought for Food: Vol. 1 & 2
Song:   McKinley Shot Burst
Typed by: pneumatic, Cno Evil

[Intro: Bronze Nazareth]
Yeah, Thought for Food volume two, Get it nigga, Get it
Yall know what to do man, Get it, Get it man, Get it
Yeah, I'm out here man, I had to go back in the cave with it
Go back then, Yeah, Bout to take it back in the jungle on em nigga
You know who it is, Yeah you know who it is, Know what it is

[Bronze Nazareth]
Yo, Street leuitent, Never get caught like Joe Bennett
Near the project with no science book in it
I spoke in hymns, Soul soaking in grim
Meteor showers from nine month double pimp
Clark Davidson, Microphone berretic exotic blend
Appearing outta wind, Drink worms in my gin
Spin gats like synapse, Collapse and get bitch slapped
I'm that Fever Pitch rap, Free to slit hats
Slam graves on top of mismatched filling dark holes
Blow rockets and rifles, Mind went sightful
Use bourbon when I'm serve'n sniper shots off the Eiffel
Charles Whitman pipe flow, Continue violent cycles
Scripts from Glasgow, Hassle like white wolves
Bodies on the rafter every time the mic blows
Engineers disappear only their storie's on the white news
Ghetto candid cam so the sidewalk's slight bruised
My mind off too, Cloverfield high mountain view
Roaming in twos, Goons with scopes in our shoes
You never saw bullets float like smoke from shrooms
Re-open still open wounds
Hope'n I choke em with opium laced news
Flash through, Skulls crushed like cashews
One blast from the slug cause cash rules
Habitual offender, Exodus lateral
Escape jail with thirty days, Be careful plan patterning
Alley gunman, Dungeon blue print plan running
Schemes to eliminate teams by the dozens
Time Square with a boxing ring, Shots busting
Tare at the rocks watch me bury bodies underneath production
106 and Playground emcee abduction
Direct Effect a sudden death you know who get the rock first
McKinley shot burst leave em in a hot hearse

Thought for Food volume two, Salute motherfucker
Naaaz-areth, I tooold yall
Lute shoot to kill fuck losing a limb
Got a problem with Bronze you got a problem with him
Play the night like the owl, Stomach raw from the growl
Appetite still destruction, Dumping is nothing
Fuck your life, I snatch your corpse spit on your casket
Keep the tool box in use, Loose screws with the ratchet
Judge Hatchet, Niggas get sentences to maximum
For the jury, I'll plead only facts on the track
Balance bricks on my back, Put the Jets on the map
When I ride stay high, Forty cal on my lap
Screaming, Peeping niggas Living Color like Keenan
I explode on the track fuck trying to get even
Killing season, Only rhyme noun for a reason
Duct tape niggas up til they no longer breathing
Ghetto heathen, Breezing through a field of dreams
Black Day, Only light be the vision in beams
Ferocious, Call me scoliosis damage your spleen
Leave you bent over, Four fingers up to the soldier
As I awake to the aroma in the morning like Folgers
Bring harm with this Desert in the present I'm danger
Real familiar with this shit nigga far from a stranger
It's the late night street life keeping me hype
Like a fiend for a fix I start with the pipe
Yo I'm everything you not son we nothing alike
Medulla splitter, Goddamn right I deliver
Underground dictator like the late great Hitler
Live harshest, Focusing only on target
Move heartless, Fuck how you feel regardless
I'm the hardest, One fifty-one with the liquor
Throw it back on the daily just to tickle the liver
Direct Effect a sudden death you know who get the rock first
McKinley shot burst leave em in a hot hearse