Texty:
Masters Of Reality Gettin High

mine to live Ain't gonna make it Workin' nine to five Just to stay alive Got no fins For to swim in the sea Got no wings to fly But I'm gettin' high

gangsta The gas prices too high, the pay raise is too low I'm better off in the game flippin' kicks like Judo Or out somewhere pimpin' gettin' money

ICP and Esham wicked rappers delight 2015 Feinds of the wicked shit its time to get high Bump your fuckin shit up for somthin wicked shit by Detroits

't step to me until you're ripened fruit I'm loopy from the invitations from funeral glue Stone poems dissolve combatants via shards through 56k high

I heard the city breathe in it's sleep Of reality I touch, but for me it's hard to keep Deep, I heard my man breathe in his sleep Of reality I touch,

day, there is no Lazareth Words like God is Greek or Latin So, if you study Egypt, you'll see the truth written by the masters My niggaz is chillin', gettin' high

you, but like, now it's gettin very difficult to do that because you're makin too.. you're makin too big a deal, out of what you perceive as a diss to you; when in reality

s deep, I heard the city breathe in its sleep Of reality I touch, but for me it's hard to keep Deep, I heard my man breathe in his sleep Of reality I

day, there is no Lazareth Words like God is Greek or Latin So if you study Egypt, you'll see the truth written by the masters My niggaz is chillin, gettin high