Spit boulders
Verse one
Screwdriver persona another classic unleashed
An anthem for suicidal bombers
I know the time Warner
spies with shades over eyes blinded by sun on corners
Labels call me i hang up
Independently moving, out car trunks
units moving like emcee's myspace album orders
100,000 dollars short of your commercial video budgets
3rd world fruit, were handing out bananas to republics
Similar sounds don't exist, if so put out flow summons
street court runners, hammer holding judges
So many spit the practical, we crack the rules
Bracket your moves, and shit on Bape shoes
concrete jungles governed by apes rule
Color my mix beige, and blue
Venues i rocket through
New breed from the brew
applaud the prophets that lynch puppetmaster crews
No hook
Verses disguised as the truth
get brokedown to the roots
The rise of the fallen troops u can't dispute
Pharoah's put on mute
Nuff respect to Monch
Never did what Simon Says
Make believe literature pronounced dead
Take my break bread
And dots circle heads
Hand the fed documents over
Fuck blunts were smoking guns
Cop boots fire-proof as we walk on the sun
walls of fame i use to get my tag on
While they were popping tags
We were popping bad blondes
Made em listen to real hip-hop
I-pods buried with brainless song
Punchline practice from dusk to dawn
Vampires bite wrong to catch tooth decay
I'm nothing like Wayne but my cash money's insane
You can play the player but you can't play the game
Hate em like the whisper song
here's some yin, and yang for your brains
The tongue of the native is abstract poetic
A wildside author antagonized by the gimmics
Do shows confuse most like Grimm, and Doom
Walking, or paralized my bap booms
shit shrooms in wreck rooms
another googly eyed goon
Cypress hill shit a black sunday in june
My shock therapy in Digital snack on your tunes
Heat up the spoons if rap don't work then rocks bloom
In top shape using these cd's for hot plates
What you know about rehearsing for a show early after fucking late?
I love the hate and how they label my mate
But you would be happy if she farted in your face
Stay in your place after the fast food shopping spree
born mockeries bashed in projects in D.C.
these New kids in the hall lack originality
Unaware of hip-hop's origin
Theyr'e sucked into the black hole lost in another galaxcy
popping time-capsules go these wannabe thugs
baffled on what samples they gaffled
clearance issues are always a hassle
You want all my cash for your dusty voice
How about a cloned version of my nuts too
And you don't make the rules because your old school
Out of date hip-hop sticks of gum that i'd chew
Wack ass producers sending me beats of samples with kung Fu
No thanks already done vexed sons looking for me with guns
Cause i woudn't collab with those crabs
Blew their cover when i saw the gun, and badge
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks