Texty:
Bronx The Bats

falling So, you paint your pictures, well you can paint a thousand Because it makes no difference, an overdose bleeding our your nose My heart is lost, baptized in my hate bats

are falling so you paint your pictures well you can paint a thousand because it makes no difference an overdose bleeding our your nose my heaart is lost baptized in my hate bats

ghetto walk To the east and wild Crooklyn, New york Creamy kid yo Smith and Wesson win a blessing The angular slang blow spots, bang, 11 Hangin' like bats

on my chest like Kong King Merciless Meng, point the killa bee sting ring DINGS, right through your head BING Snap the wing off of bats, my battleaxe

nothin' less than twenty two people I'm street I rap for niggaz that shoot people Frontin' like you gon' squeeze nah no ya' won't You don't want it with the Bronx

'mon!) The funerals, the wakes, the churches, the coffins (uhh!) The heartbroken mothers, it happens, too often (why?!) The problems, the things, we use, to solve 'em (what?!) Yonkers, the Bronx

saw you reapin that Release the strap, get in the back cuz I'm takin this rap Where the money at? Now we 'bout to pound you with bats Hate to see it,

on my chest like Kong King Merciless Meng, point the killa bee sting ring DINGS, right through your head BING Snap the wing off of bats, my battleaxe