Nowhere to run 'til you crazy
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Tell me where will you hide
We was raised off of Marvin Gaye
Yup look at us now King Tuts of the modern day
Hands like Langston Hughes and write jewels like
Curtis Mayfield made gangsta blues
Black Jews rap Sammy Davis
Write a script like Spike Lee to take back our forty acres
That's why the hood is my residence
God is my president, I still hear my pops Duke Ellington
In the project they keep felons in warm Edison
Veterans coming home on heroin
More guns in the minors hands
They wanna take away our plans
Born to a slow jam, and fear no man
Too many fathers in the yards over coke grams
Most of our peers hope to stay close to they beers
Thugs cry but nobody cant notice their tears
War is declared shootouts for lustful affairs
Damn near hit the child in the crib upstairs
Nowhere to run 'til you crazy
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Now Tell me where will you hide
Where's your principles slaves in the physical form
They want blood until a little is drawn
Where's your thuggness where your bravery
If you don't want this watch what you say to me
I'm sensitive to insults and criticism
Rap-wise I'm a pitfall of lyricism
Street-wise I've been on my niggerisms
I'ma hustle lift weights like they do in prison
Money is my motive and it's been clear
Cash rules and it going on the tenth year
Reared up and I ain't coming down
Geared up like Rihanna I run the town
We used to act a clown with our faces painted
30 Rounds in the stainless rob you in an elevator
This for my duke behind the concrete walls
Found Allah, changed his name to Shareef Jamar
High as a kite with it
This Phillies Blunt come with herb and spice in it
If you're intelligent you might get it
Think outside the box if you spent most of your life in it
Turn ya back probably got a knife in it
To earn stripes means you gonna have to try and get it
Line for line right in the archives with it
Hustler for life but yo I'm different
Unrest in heavy mental success was very little
Good and evil we right dead in the middle
Trying to capture paradise on earth it ain't working
If nothing's for certain how will I ever know its worth it
Say we all got a purpose I've discovered what mine is
Nevermind his focus on my time here
Every dawn has an evening seeing is believing
Yea the preachers preaching but it seems the deacons gotta secret
Thought of every logical reason
Will I live to see my grandbabies nephews and niece's what I'm seeking
The road less traveled to Babylons Marathon
Get in line no rearview I never look behind
The blindside is tough guys end up in a box
Flippin pies for riches
Immortalized in pictures
And so we mourn
Phillie - Brick Cell Therapy (feat. 60 Second Assassin & Heaven Razah) Lyrics
Phillie - Brick Cell Therapy (feat. 60 Second Assassin & Heaven Razah) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Nowhere to run 'til you crazy
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Tell me where will you hide
We was raised off of Marvin Gaye
Yup look at us now King Tuts of the modern day
Hands like Langston Hughes and write jewels like
Curtis Mayfield made gangsta blues
Black Jews rap Sammy Davis
Write a script like Spike Lee to take back our forty acres
That's why the hood is my residence
God is my president, I still hear my pops Duke Ellington
In the project they keep felons in warm Edison
Veterans coming home on heroin
More guns in the minors hands
They wanna take away our plans
Born to a slow jam, and fear no man
Too many fathers in the yards over coke grams
Most of our peers hope to stay close to they beers
Thugs cry but nobody cant notice their tears
War is declared shootouts for lustful affairs
Damn near hit the child in the crib upstairs
Nowhere to run 'til you crazy
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Now Tell me where will you hide
Where's your principles slaves in the physical form
They want blood until a little is drawn
Where's your thuggness where your bravery
If you don't want this watch what you say to me
I'm sensitive to insults and criticism
Rap-wise I'm a pitfall of lyricism
Street-wise I've been on my niggerisms
I'ma hustle lift weights like they do in prison
Money is my motive and it's been clear
Cash rules and it going on the tenth year
Reared up and I ain't coming down
Geared up like Rihanna I run the town
We used to act a clown with our faces painted
30 Rounds in the stainless rob you in an elevator
This for my duke behind the concrete walls
Found Allah, changed his name to Shareef Jamar
High as a kite with it
This Phillies Blunt come with herb and spice in it
If you're intelligent you might get it
Think outside the box if you spent most of your life in it
Turn ya back probably got a knife in it
To earn stripes means you gonna have to try and get it
Line for line right in the archives with it
Hustler for life but yo I'm different
Unrest in heavy mental success was very little
Good and evil we right dead in the middle
Trying to capture paradise on earth it ain't working
If nothing's for certain how will I ever know its worth it
Say we all got a purpose I've discovered what mine is
Nevermind his focus on my time here
Every dawn has an evening seeing is believing
Yea the preachers preaching but it seems the deacons gotta secret
Thought of every logical reason
Will I live to see my grandbabies nephews and niece's what I'm seeking
The road less traveled to Babylons Marathon
Get in line no rearview I never look behind
The blindside is tough guys end up in a box
Flippin pies for riches
Immortalized in pictures
And so we mourn
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Tell me where will you hide
We was raised off of Marvin Gaye
Yup look at us now King Tuts of the modern day
Hands like Langston Hughes and write jewels like
Curtis Mayfield made gangsta blues
Black Jews rap Sammy Davis
Write a script like Spike Lee to take back our forty acres
That's why the hood is my residence
God is my president, I still hear my pops Duke Ellington
In the project they keep felons in warm Edison
Veterans coming home on heroin
More guns in the minors hands
They wanna take away our plans
Born to a slow jam, and fear no man
Too many fathers in the yards over coke grams
Most of our peers hope to stay close to they beers
Thugs cry but nobody cant notice their tears
War is declared shootouts for lustful affairs
Damn near hit the child in the crib upstairs
Nowhere to run 'til you crazy
Nowhere to hid
Aint got long you must be crazy
Now Tell me where will you hide
Where's your principles slaves in the physical form
They want blood until a little is drawn
Where's your thuggness where your bravery
If you don't want this watch what you say to me
I'm sensitive to insults and criticism
Rap-wise I'm a pitfall of lyricism
Street-wise I've been on my niggerisms
I'ma hustle lift weights like they do in prison
Money is my motive and it's been clear
Cash rules and it going on the tenth year
Reared up and I ain't coming down
Geared up like Rihanna I run the town
We used to act a clown with our faces painted
30 Rounds in the stainless rob you in an elevator
This for my duke behind the concrete walls
Found Allah, changed his name to Shareef Jamar
High as a kite with it
This Phillies Blunt come with herb and spice in it
If you're intelligent you might get it
Think outside the box if you spent most of your life in it
Turn ya back probably got a knife in it
To earn stripes means you gonna have to try and get it
Line for line right in the archives with it
Hustler for life but yo I'm different
Unrest in heavy mental success was very little
Good and evil we right dead in the middle
Trying to capture paradise on earth it ain't working
If nothing's for certain how will I ever know its worth it
Say we all got a purpose I've discovered what mine is
Nevermind his focus on my time here
Every dawn has an evening seeing is believing
Yea the preachers preaching but it seems the deacons gotta secret
Thought of every logical reason
Will I live to see my grandbabies nephews and niece's what I'm seeking
The road less traveled to Babylons Marathon
Get in line no rearview I never look behind
The blindside is tough guys end up in a box
Flippin pies for riches
Immortalized in pictures
And so we mourn
Writer: CH RON SMITH, F CUFFIE, JOSEPH ANTHONY WILSON, JUSTIN DANTE CROSS
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave