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Visions Of A Silent One

This song is by Mr. Pookie and appears on the album Tha Rippla (2000).

(Mr. pookie)
Comin' up tha muthafuckin block, it's tha undertaker
Jus throw yo hands in tha air, don't move a muscle I won't hesitate ta
Jus let you have it wit a few thangz
No need for runnin' and duckin cause wit this missile pack, I'm takin' aim
Now all these methods, need to finish him
I took my sack out my pocket and smoked a blunt as I diminished him
Intoxicated, rule number 1 pookie jus can't be faded
High off that dosha, I don told ya I was bound to make it
Niggaz smoke, forget that drama I be tellin' ya
Cause me and my crooks stay on cloud 9 on tha regular
And sense we crooks, jus some killaz we motivate to get cha
Pull out that knife and slit yo throat and watch yo body shiver
Jus will peel ya, hollow points is hittin quicker
Standin ova yo body and watchin that blood spilla
Say hoe, jus have a seat and listen thea to tha beat
As tha words come out my mouth and grab hard by yo feet
Penetratin to yo nerves, sendin signals to yo brain
As I post up on tha curve, do you forget I'm tha blame?
Wit tha finastatic, lift up my shirt to pistol I will grab it
Killin' folks and smokin' blunts, I'm lettin these niggaz have it

Visions of a silent one, loadin up an extra clip
Foes out to get me but these rounds will spill up out my clip
Trip and watch me throw some shit at yo head
No clear description of this face leavin' coppers mislead

Now look into tha eyes of a muthafuckin crook (whatcha see?)
Jus a crip azz nigga high as he can be
Wit them 3 mo crooks, in otha words, my motives
Be comin' hard, I told ya, and spittin' shit so potent
And toastin to heavy burdens, nigga I'm on my own
Gauge inside yo dome to solve tha problem at home
It's on, now tha pressure's on my back wit a tree
Damn I gotta hit a lick (naw you need to hit that weed)
Stressin me is a baby momma gripin and cryin
Man I hope she ain't lyin' about this baby bein mine
And times is changin, you betta peep tha world around you
Comin' up I'm bound to a southside clown fool


Mr. pookie, mr. muffit, k-roc and c-pone
Rippin beats we see on
Smokin' killa till we gon
Loan me them pistols so I can make a dismissal, what
Wont need to dis you, leave you shitty like some tissue
Bitch you anotha havoc, cause boy I ain't gon have it
My visions of a silent one release tha automatic
Let you have it wit tha gauge, buckshots come from every way
Got 'em lost in tha maze betta yet I see you dazed
Be amazed by tha power I possess, that I stress
Turn tha s to a p on yo muthafuckin chest
It's best you keep yo distance cause nigga I jus wont listen
Come on in my dimension and let's get into some killin'

(Pookie please jus let me live, man)
Bitch would you let me live?
(Huh?)
That's wha I thought
(Gun shot)
Surprise nigga I hit that scene when you think I wouldn't
Talkin' shit to my niggaz now boy you really shouldn't
Cause tha pack in tha back of me they really killaz
Cut you up, body show nothin' but yo body shiver
Flossin that bitch that you wit and really shit to me
'Cause I don already fucked that hoe
But you can't tell and you can't see
How a pimp that be me, be actin' quiet and calm
Be quick to snatch yo bitch and leavin' that hoochie body numb
Tha fun of her, lickin' my back and my azz
Told me to lick up on her, but hoe now I think I'll pass
I'd rather smoke on a blunt I get so high I get tweeted
I try to stop smokin' so much, k-roc keepin' me weeded
Jus back on off of me though don't wont no mo or no static
I'd rather reach for my gun, bust a pump, let some punk nigga have it
This nigga don't know where I'm from homeboy you betta take a look
Because I'm out of clean and dirty, 13030 stoneycrook

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