Zone Out

(Album: God's Son - 2002)

Braveheart for life
Zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out
Uh, Salaam Remi!
Yeah, zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out, what, yeah
Zo-zo-zo zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out
(I want y'all to blast on these niggas, man)
Zo-zo-zo zone out
Zo-zo-zo zone out

Tuck in your chain put your watch in your pocket
Here come the Braveheart straight out the projects
We live the life where the blood spills
Same thing that get you cash nigga, get you killed
Warning, Jungle always keep a gun on him
Pull out forehead yawning
Sloppy, dropping you birds
Close range so my bullets don't swerve, curve
No bullshit, back in ya head, find me
Call Earl, death is the ways of the world
Y'all made criminals trying to wild out there sold crack
Bust guns at Bow Wow's age
Fighting in jail, looking for heaven, living in hell
Fucking 'em hoes, boiling coke since I was 12
Way too foul walk around all the time
With a gray MAC-10 and a pocket full o' dimes

Braveheart to the graveyard, let's go niggas
Scared straight, but fuck them hoes
Keep it, dead serious
Believe it don't believe us, until you see me creeping
Now you sleep with them fishes
G-W-I-Z, so delicious
To all them ghetto and sober bitches in 'burban districts
I'm moving on passing chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God's Son
And this is the military turn it up
My Uzi weighs a ton, your son less thump nah
Heat talk feet walk you run uh
Rat ta-tat, hear them shots come
Drop son, pull out
You better send 'em back son, or feel that casket
The peeps be like one (one)
I'm moving on passing chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God's Son

G-O-D S-O-N
I S-O-O-T-H-E a female's estrogen
With my testosterone, male hormone
Enough for a giant's body, science S-C-I-E-N-C-E
Don't tempt me, EMS against you, me I'm just, invincible
Like Mike Jack said
For me and Al Sharpton won't be Broke in Harlem
That's dead, who made this style, Solo or X
Are you UTFO's Doctor or Moe Dee
Whoever, I freaked it yes, so meet ya death
I never wear Esco, I got a New Line coming like cinemas
Remember the, original, y'all still trying to show niggas ya rich
Town house niggas
I'm six cribs deep, six bank accounts in six countries
Na I'm lying, who gives a fuck that's so tired
While pictures of Bravehearts just living it up
A million of us, each nigga inching to bust
You got a house in Virginia, the only way you sicker than us
Getting bagged with .22s now you's a ridiculous fuck
No need for the gun play, it's okay, 'cause you dying anyway

Yo, this is for them high school drop outs
Niggas who copped out
If you prefer shots over knockouts
Sniffing coke, smoking weed
Selling crack, selling smack
You thugging it, you ain't turn it back
Bravehearts getting money ruthless 'til the world end
Getting high with my enemy's girlfriend
I used to have a bike on a bench
Now I got the Jeep on this trip
Coke in the pot, heat on my hip

Nigga don't stop blazing 'cause ya target's moving
Shoot 'til the gun's empty stupid, Queens
Niggas so ruthless, really excuses is
Useless to these swift executioners
And that's Queensbridge nigga, all day
Pump packs o' crack, smoke purple haze
Running from Ds quickly knockout rookies
G Wiz you know what I'm all about
To all my real niggas

Zo-zo-zo zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out
Zo-zo-zo zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out
Zo-zo-zo zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out
Zo-zo-zo zone out, zo-zo-zo zone out