Jedi Mind Tricks, Beamon - Certified Dope lyrics

Yeah one, two
One, two one, two
Yeah one, two
One, two one, two
Aight look yeah

Anybody think they can't test the bol
Prolly word bond, this is the best
That Sean Connery
We pure, come from the chest of Bob Marley
Abstain from the ways of the flesh
That's not godly
Cube started out on the west with my posse
No pork I don't put mess in my body
Bullets gonna rip through the
Vest like hot saki
Always gonna give you the best, but not Robby
Everything herb and liquor like hot toddy
We gon' trick 31 like Rob Zombie
You can't control the drum, you rock sloppy
I don't play second fiddle, I'm not Scottie
If Vinnie gonna spray the block
He rock shotty
The 45 caliber kick and stop Roddy's
Weisenthal loaded the clip and shot Nazis
Now to rhyme, made a decision and shot Ghandi

Please don't make me feel like I
Gotta bust a shot hoo! (One two) Shot
(yeah, yeah)
Please don't make me feel like I
Gotta cock this nine hoo! (One two) Nine
Hah hah

There's no choice wielding here
Salute Generals cops trying to get him on
Lock to boost Federal
They said Vinnie one of the
Best but too technical
When I tried slowin' it
Down it's too sensical
The covenant dark in the soul
The Blue Sentinal call this little 9 a dime
And shoot ten at you
The mark that we made in the game
Too indelible
God made dirt, and dirt produce vegetables
My heart pumps, runnin' the lane
You move minimal
It's octopus slums so beware a few tentacles
The rhyme too fine and
The wine too delectable
My voice wave stronger than yours
It move decibals
Manowar making it loud and move decibal
The snare don't knock and the
Kick is too minimal
Sayin' that you're better than
Dirt is too literal
Straight left over the jab induce medical
Muerte

Please don't make me feel like I
Gotta bust a shot hoo! (One two) Shot
(yeah, yeah)
Please don't make me feel like I
Gotta cock this nine hoo! (One two) Nine
Hah hah

Yeah stoupe what up