Supreme by Xali Lyrics
Supreme iso
My mind meditates on my flows
Melee to the maestro, *triple high mode?*
Rather roll a blunt than iceplode
Grab my flag, spit the truth on the roots of the white home
Talking government cover with laws of fucking crime code
Time holes, five folds, knowing that all the lines potent
Expose the eschalon
Grab the wisdom, write with the weapon
They know the pressure on
Ring in your ear like pression
Keep on pressing on
See the profit, pictures of American prophet
Like your pockets, a far higher option
Half my mind is gone from the drug abuse
Smoking addiction to calm my nerves
I'm a troubled youth
Blessed with the diction
I rape with words
I'mma fuck the booth
Pass that to my crew
Put her on a noose
Lawless in cahoots
We the niggas you should follow
Future moulders for tomorrow
Every beat I lay down like sleepy hollow
Rapping till I'm headless
But fucks giving, who affected?
Higher mind, better direction
I'm a rebel with a reason, see the ink on the pain
Don't think
Call 'em *Ink or ball crane?*
Tell 'em Xali's insane
New Jack rap, with the sav' to get your soul smacked
See my flow cracked, lace dope on the whole track
Not turning, no hold back
Slash your whole back
My niggas fried by the pigs
I can't get those souls back
Watch a waterfall before your eyes
What control that?
Take your heart to the dark, tell the gully hold that
See the harsh, hella ugly, you've gotta behold that
Tryn'a get control back
Tryn'a get control back
This is living explicit
Breeded with a common sickness to breed the illest
Showing you the rugged realness, raw, illicit
Mary Magdalene on your missus watch you sitting with the Christians
See I'll even the same subject
Well, sin in secret reaching success
Don't judge me, for showing you to the maximum
Half of us are stuck in this system set to trapping us
Finger to the government
Yeah, this my rapping, fuck
For all my niggas in the hood with the hatchet tucked
See, they scratching us off the list they contain
Of the ones they see fit with worth to maintain
Anybody stuck in poverty, back of the line
Take it back in your time
Slay the back of your mind
'Cause you're black and you're kind
How the fuck is that our problem?
Niggas wasn't born with racial options
Higher than the cockpit?
Murder times, see the clock hit
Earthquake your worth
Watch the relish on your rock shift
Immaculate conception
Church homie reflection
A higher mind for my new direction
I'm on this rap shit off of these hepes
Lyrical attraction, call me the tempest
Talking to the trenches of new selection
New representers of crude expression
Still I slide different to society
Word to the Boston's inner side of me
Grinding to survive the streets
The supply is cheap
Feed your soul with bullshit
Impose the profit on the pulpit
Prophet of the foolish
Pocket our option to get the poor fit
See the gun and your currency
Get you blew up quick
Watch who you fool with
All the niggas in my set are selected for my highest respect
See our mob projects, indica in the backwood
Niggas serving in the track hoods to get the trap good
Contain death in black hoods, long as it's that good
World gotta take him, crack could
Blue collar, holla at your soul
Yeah
Blue collar, holla at your nigga
Yeah
Blue collar, holla at ya...
My mind meditates on my flows
Melee to the maestro, *triple high mode?*
Rather roll a blunt than iceplode
Grab my flag, spit the truth on the roots of the white home
Talking government cover with laws of fucking crime code
Time holes, five folds, knowing that all the lines potent
Expose the eschalon
Grab the wisdom, write with the weapon
They know the pressure on
Ring in your ear like pression
Keep on pressing on
See the profit, pictures of American prophet
Like your pockets, a far higher option
Half my mind is gone from the drug abuse
Smoking addiction to calm my nerves
I'm a troubled youth
Blessed with the diction
I rape with words
I'mma fuck the booth
Pass that to my crew
Put her on a noose
Lawless in cahoots
We the niggas you should follow
Future moulders for tomorrow
Every beat I lay down like sleepy hollow
Rapping till I'm headless
But fucks giving, who affected?
Higher mind, better direction
I'm a rebel with a reason, see the ink on the pain
Don't think
Call 'em *Ink or ball crane?*
Tell 'em Xali's insane
New Jack rap, with the sav' to get your soul smacked
See my flow cracked, lace dope on the whole track
Not turning, no hold back
Slash your whole back
My niggas fried by the pigs
I can't get those souls back
Watch a waterfall before your eyes
What control that?
Take your heart to the dark, tell the gully hold that
See the harsh, hella ugly, you've gotta behold that
Tryn'a get control back
Tryn'a get control back
This is living explicit
Breeded with a common sickness to breed the illest
Showing you the rugged realness, raw, illicit
Mary Magdalene on your missus watch you sitting with the Christians
See I'll even the same subject
Well, sin in secret reaching success
Don't judge me, for showing you to the maximum
Half of us are stuck in this system set to trapping us
Finger to the government
Yeah, this my rapping, fuck
For all my niggas in the hood with the hatchet tucked
See, they scratching us off the list they contain
Of the ones they see fit with worth to maintain
Anybody stuck in poverty, back of the line
Take it back in your time
Slay the back of your mind
'Cause you're black and you're kind
How the fuck is that our problem?
Niggas wasn't born with racial options
Higher than the cockpit?
Murder times, see the clock hit
Earthquake your worth
Watch the relish on your rock shift
Immaculate conception
Church homie reflection
A higher mind for my new direction
I'm on this rap shit off of these hepes
Lyrical attraction, call me the tempest
Talking to the trenches of new selection
New representers of crude expression
Still I slide different to society
Word to the Boston's inner side of me
Grinding to survive the streets
The supply is cheap
Feed your soul with bullshit
Impose the profit on the pulpit
Prophet of the foolish
Pocket our option to get the poor fit
See the gun and your currency
Get you blew up quick
Watch who you fool with
All the niggas in my set are selected for my highest respect
See our mob projects, indica in the backwood
Niggas serving in the track hoods to get the trap good
Contain death in black hoods, long as it's that good
World gotta take him, crack could
Blue collar, holla at your soul
Yeah
Blue collar, holla at your nigga
Yeah
Blue collar, holla at ya...