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Double back, bubble back, relax |
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Sip the cognac, watch us chop wax like axe |
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The team leaders, palm readers, mind readers |
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To yolk MC's we be the, egg beaters (yo) |
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[Silver Synth] |
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Behold, the title holding trophy grip |
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Assess internet access as computer chip |
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Concentrating, on computating, calculating |
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what's crammable, plus acclaimable, vintage flow |
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be understandable, yet untameable, a wild thing |
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Bumping, triple jumping, the heartbeat rhymeologist |
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Steady pumping, compelling, propelling |
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Accelerate like excelling, or gasoline |
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I puzzle into wordplay for MC's in my mezzanine |
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Lyrics exquisite, I mean fine cuisine |
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With a slip of the pen, the track get hot like cayenne |
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And amped like armageddeon, shreddin, water treaddin |
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Insect MC beheadin, the lotus eater |
|
Watch the leader, publish thought like mind reader |
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With linguistic intermix like egg beater, be the |
|
chariotier, future and yesteryear here |
|
World premier, relay rhyme like Paul Revere |
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The trickle down theory in your stratosphere |
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Plus the Einstein theory by Shakespeare in your ear |
|
[Chorus 1/2] |
|
[unknown] |
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I part the crowd like the Red Sea, the deadly poisonous rap medley |
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Feds wanna behead me, allege me to be the criminal |
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What, subliminal crimes, handled with rhymes |
|
Fortified, with iron and minerals |
|
Street lockin from heat glock and reach prize |
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to state of mind, object of the rhyme, pried from the time |
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Drop it on your mind, men'll explode |
|
What plot unfold, like a glock unload |
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Yeah paint a fatal picture, story untold |
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Jewelry and gold, you can catch me tourin the globe |
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With Moet, do this here, shit as far as it go |
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Got to be more to gettin this, than cars and clothes |
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Bars and hoes, only for glory, God and grove |
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Mob shit, key in the ignition, car explode |
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To the break of day, real niggaz is gon' make away |
|
Trapped in this game for a minute 'til we can break away |
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[Chorus] |
|
[Ice Oscillator] |
|
If you can catch me, you could be me, try and see me I'll blind ya |
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They'll never find ya, I clap hot caps from behind ya |
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It's a cold world that's wet so my slugs burn when they enter |
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Hit your major arteries, you're startin me to feel this |
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Ice the Oscillator, gangland hood, the realest |
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My bulletholes look like funnels, stuck the {?} pen in the Tunnel |
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For some get real, nigga whattup, fuck that |
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Word to God, if you fuck my whole crew bucks back |
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And set the shit off, rock the clip off, knock your bitch off |
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Get the Hennessy, screw the lid off, and drink |
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Suck and fuck 'til my fuckin dick sit off |
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And eat the pussy like I'm tryin to lick the fuckin clit off |
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Yo, yo, yo |
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[Chorus repeat to fade] |
