I owe my soul to the company store I was born one mornin' when it was drizzle in rain Fightin' and shootin' is my middle name I was born in a canebreak, raised by my
find In the clenched fists of my ego or the confines of my mind Or the hipness of my swagger or the swagger in my step Or the scowl of my grimace or
in my iPod Niggas learned to raise their voices when I lowered my rod Staff of Moses, Pharaoh knows it, son, my word is my bond Tune my heart with mind
makes your body move Rhythm makes your mind move Rhythm makes your elbows groove Rhythm makes that behind move Rhythm makes the people move Rhythm makes you want to move Rhythm makes
I can't go: I owe my soul to the company store. Well, I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain. Fightin' an' trouble was my middle name. I was raised
I got my mind made up, originality.... And one things for sure... I ain't ya average MC [Verse Two] This ain't your average thug, dodging slugs ain't ya average rapper who grew up
in a category of art asshole or Idiot but I don't try to fit in My life's like a novel of science-fiction My mission is to get into your mind, and we
not collide 'Cause if I see you, I'm creepin' up from behind You betta hide, you on my side You in my hood and I know I'm up on yo mind I'll break it
to enter Uhaah took My cup runneth over, stressed out whenever I'm sober This cold world got my girl scan Fight on the sand, I'm allergic to ham Weak minds
of story many n-ggas don't live to tell it, I put my life in this sentence, like a convicted felon, Victory is mine, climb a mountain raise my fists and
fest fist to fist on the mic you're left headless they broke into the vault like Capone didn't find jack so they all went home my vault could never
in front of your face Save me my fistful of tears You can make it disappear, girl All you got to do is just raise up, face up, stay up All things will
you call me 'cause I can't go I owe my soul to the company store I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine I picked up my shovel and I walked
s best that you peel For real, yes I get dirty with my skill No slacks in my thoughts, no time for my to trip up Niggaz, your crazy, I leave no fuckin
Step up to this! witness anger from this raised up fist. the Hood is jacked up bad, and more pain will come to exist. well, Whose fault is it, and who
you make up your mind? Why don't you make up your mind? Why don't you make up your mind? Why don't you make up your mind? Why don't you make up your
slave ships' human cargo Seemingly meaningless rappers flood the market With shit that make me pace in my room until I rip the carpet I'm fit to start up