Вершы: Clipse. Till The Casket Drops. Speak Of Freedom.

[Pusha-T:]
With every line written, And all I have given
Music's been nothing more than a self made prison
I've taken inmate losses at the hands of this one
My pen's been the poison to family and friendships
Now is time to mend shit,
Time to bring closure to
The clear conscience of Pusha is long over due
Thinking to myself, what could I be owing you?
They only tell you great when they reminiscing over you
Before I trouble T-Roy,
It's just a D-Boy
Let me play the role of a common on his B-Boy
Speaking my truth in rhyme no matter how bland it is
A heavy heart lighting that's just what my ransom is
All apologies,
I bear the cross I wear the blame
We in the same group but I don't share my brothers pain
Not to confuse,
Our sentiment are all the same
I just don't feel Nothing I'm Numb by the will to gain
Same thing brought tears to innocence
I turned away
And didn't even flinch,
Yuuch
The music drove me crazy
Looked up and lost the first bitch I ever wanted to have my babies
Nowadays
She can't even face me
I'm sorry for the heartbreak
I promised you forever my lady, Jodeci baby
Pompus muthafucka!
Just look what them jewels made me
I'm only finding comfort in knowing you can't replace me
What a thing to say! But what am I to do?
I'm role playing a conscious nigga
And true is true
Cocaine aside
All of the bloggers behoove
My critics finally have a verse of mine to jerk off to
I owe you all

[Malice:]
This is were the buck stop, here's where I draw the line
I touch the hem Gods work is so divine
I see the error of my ways over time
Never to return, Malicous has been refined
Like wine with time, I get better
Napa Valley Vintage my flow is fermented
Now drink of me, as if I bought the bar
Run to these words, as if there's no tomorrow
Never mind my car, careful what you wish for
Behind that red curtain the devil and his pitch fork
Jealousy, I ask thee: "What is this for? "
How was I to know I was happy being piss poor
No whore, that's not love, we was fucking
I was in search of a chicken head; you was clucking
And I was lusting
We were both out of order
I shoulda known better as I'm reminded of my daughter
Am I my brothers keeper for himself every man
I have been your reaper, there's blood on my hands
Except me as your keeper, there's been a change of plans
Be careful of what you speak of, I've come to understand
Bitch