We flip it up like C.C.I to High Desert-on locc from the S.H.U to D-Blocc-Liberty Bell Bars-Charles Fey All Stars-we got flavor like bubble gum chew-First Fruits Jaccpotting Triple Cherry Crew-feel it hard Statue of Liberty Bells ring in unison-rejoice the serene feeling like when we be doing it-no more bad times-where feeling glad was just sad times-find out the truth when I paroled-a lot of fake ass niggaz exposed-they should of stucc to the lonely road-now they gonna be convicted of hidden skulls-foul ones been told-for crimes that don’t scream the G-Code-bragging about killing homies Liberty Bells-for that with no liberty rot in Hell-it shouldn’t be too hot for you retired punks-liar liar pants on fire bugs-wanna frame me like Lifers wit a grudge-a long personal Vendetta cuz they weenie rider chumps-me & my Fam is Super Made with Copyrights-you wish you could paste & copy this life-no Pastebin or paste button on your sights-you might be free but not to me-you know what you got coming your Liberty Bells is silencing-used ta call me Big Silent from A.B-in Loving Memory of Riccy Rest In Peace-a true Ledo Center Gee-from the C.T-but ironically no Lil Riccy-who’s tricky dicky-Watergate Scandal-just for you to slip the bitch would scrape the tread off your sandles-and put out your Streetlights Candles-leave ya in the dark with no sight-call you a N word in this Pro Life-ironically cuz the bitch ain’t about the Con Life-not yet but should be with Bail Bonds died-no Aladdin Bail Bonds no Union Station putting in work for the other side-Brooklyn Avenue & Vignes don’t need to get a witness-cuz they seen me fresh out on parole like millions-mobbin on da bloccs like a MaraVillian-Belvedere Park always winning-you punks are dead to me like after the Deadend on Riggin-no threats & no Resurrection-tryna vote me out illegally but what vote you got banned from the Presedential election-you punks look like every Fun Boy riding every hard errection-wish you was really from The Park-mark niggaz with no direction-should of broke them bones like me from Macy to da blocc to locc no need to mention-greedy fucc boys doped up off of a fake direct message-gassed up you trash punks-I been blessed in-by the same lames been claiming the fame ya u regret “IT”-I’m born & raised on the Original Hood Bloccs Alpine to Broadway & College Street-Brooklyn Avenue now Cesar Chavez to the East L.A College Community scene-all 213 now 323-them bustahs never had my bacc-cuz the Deadend will kill yo ass-while the Harpy’s laugh-we only flying with Golden Harpy Eagles-Virgin clean & Regal-not with the bustahs that will burn ya so illegal-they ill plus legal-Hood Defectors & real snitches-from day one been no good infectors & real suspicious-what Hood Respect for these dill kissers?-I bet that Prison Steele turn em into real misses-I know-we know-to see someone u always hated parole-is not a good feeling-especially since u been in the hood squealing-on this Bleakwood Villian-Shoe Master Hollyhood dealing-Geez & fleas-A’s to Z’s-Ones & Twos till the end of everything-Ima Westside Innovator Rider-I always got a can of gas & a True Blue lighter-everything I touch gets attention my fingertips are yellow highlighters-you to late wet crying pussies we 2 early taking no losses Mourning Siders-we the R.B.I Kings “Really Beyond Insane”-with our enemies names-engraved-on home plate-everytime we hit a home run we stomp on they face-they took a gamble bet on they own folks like Pete Rose & lost they place-in the Hall of Fame-they not even good enough for the Hall of Shame-us Auto Botz & OutL.Awz live forever-& die never-we 2 Raw fly thru Gods mind & inherit The Sands of Time-& keep the Devils evilest secrets frozen in our eyes-we moving car parts like hidden drugs in cigars-we Transformers more then meets the eyes-IHOP for my NinjAz all day day-I’m well rounded like some IHOP pancakes-just like my Girlz well rounded pancakes-that’s why I always got a Funny Face-Lean Blueberry “Ripple Over Everything”-Roe wit IT-never fold on IT-my rain turned into sunshine-now I got them bustahs duccing & they the corrupted Onetime-with no say in this One Life-we cooler then the metal on the Titanic that sunk long time ago-we cooler then the Iceman after he waccs his foes & leaves em froze-with one shot from a Dillenger to the dome-we cooler then the Air Conditioner on blow-in 2Pac’s Studio-we cooler then The Can, The Cooler, The Slammer, we Brooklyn Trovs-we cooler then the Wintertime icy water washing up on the Artic Shore-we cooler then Jacc Frost metal belt buccle covered with snow-we cooler then Eskimoes with iced out dentals spitting freestyles on diamond microphones-& they fake jewels dropped them long time ago-in the belly of a Treasure Trove-Simon Says Go & turns green-now it’s time to ride on our enemies-until Simon Says turns red & they bleed-then Simon Says turns Yellow-now we feeling Mellow Mellow

Lyrics submitted by KRC-Roseland Ent-The Pac-Planet9

Liberty Bells song meanings
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