Tired

[Bronze Nazareth]
My name is Bronze, nigga, I'm usually calm
All the sweet smoke, bullets the size of wombat arms
You never catch me on radio, used to run a fade and go
Tango and Grey Goose, and Mr. Belvedere slow
Fell this year off the top story, like hell is here
Laying there like Spider-Man did, I love to fire at wig
On a woman who dance a street walker jig
Dusted like them old records, not from them leaky cigs
Blasted at wigs, from the ambassador bridge
Slashing them kids who thought my passage has slipped
To meet, crashing they cribs, to smashing my dig, between your whites, apples and grits
Then out the bottle like RZA did when Masta said
"The seed worth the taking", I see worth the making
Racist, retaliation, making it's way in
On the plane towards the Trade Center on banquets
From slave ships to grade ships, remember, always have patience
Make this relation, I'm trying to make a potion
For patience, engage my forward motion, never makes it
And I sit in this basement, blowing the same chips from my day shift
In the matrix, I walk slow like vagrance
Aimed at angles, nice, screaming like devil made me aim my shit
That your brain pits, cuz it's forty hours a week
Shit drove me insane, with, no soundtrack, or royalty check
I boil suspects, while he oils the tech and puts twenty in the ceiling
Damn, dunny, you not appealing, only musically garbage
When walk the tar pits, become target
My hands will squeeze guns hardest, my brain is Pro Tools compatible
Stagger dagger slow, or you will can get the calico
Turn into Waco, bodies piling slow
I'm in no mood to flow with you wack dudes
Ravish and dazzle with rude, I'm not clapping at you
No applause, I need fucking thought for food, nigga