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I take the break where it is, cousin |
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cadence "****in" weapon |
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8 step programmer..listen |
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sleepers hand on the pillow |
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black hand like Gavrillo |
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I don't spit coke rap, what you gram into kilos |
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i was standing for real bro (yup) |
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sure I'll house you but i won't supply you a meal though |
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not really...keep your points slow unto yourself |
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i dropped out with a 4.0, have a way with words |
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heavy mental, gentle barely every single sound signal will rest me in development |
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I'm the intelligent black speaker |
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with a sound that brings every relevant black speaker |
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at the black dog, they're sort avoids me |
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raps future is blacker than their important employees |
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your dead if it's fight night cause with veg your quite tight |
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britenite, so I got you pegged like light-brite |
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I stick it to bitches split decisions |
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I can tell your friends lying |
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and I don't riddle with griffins |
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style soft like a pillow |
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for real though |
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black hand like Gavrillo |
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I'm Bob Dylan on the fence |
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will I sellout or buy in? |
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either way, I'm indebted to science |
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pyramid schemes with quaintness on the grip |
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I won't push this block unless enough is much money is spent |
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the kid was shook to scandal, the pistol-grip punks do the work |
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cause the vandals took the handle |
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hope that hits you harder than an anvil |
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the way i wrote my Epitaph date |
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with that face and the handbill |
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like damn real, that's my space like Jetsons |
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your on myspace with my line as a reference |
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that'll leave hookers with a dime and your preference |
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I'm hard-top copy, I don't whine or regret shit. |
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a question: how's it feel to feel the house like the speaker? |
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plus the wielded joust for the weaker and the poorer |
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hand black like O'maras and I ran to the back with 7 years and 4 scores |
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style soft like a pillow |
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for real though |
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black hand like Gavrillo |
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i said "get' em" I'm done with dead riddims |
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the #1 question is "can the heads mix' em?" |
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i gotta vendettas with ice chains and grills |
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but I'll flame ya skills might pain your illness |
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**** writers block! i block writers on the regularly |
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I'm sedimentary fight or talk with on the dusty berry |
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like going into battle, they say the warrior is god-like |
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means if your a civilian, your looking at a dogfight |
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colder than the frostbite, i walk with strikes in one blocks |
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like Pac-man but with more rubber then Dunlop |
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who's grimy? again who's rhyming? ask your girl, she blew my towel like Boots Riley |
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and now foods try me, catch me when the flows done |
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like it was 88, ripping lean patches off a homespun |
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no one can touch' em, so I'm takin my marker |
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to get my point across like an atheist archer |
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style soft like a pillow |
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for real though |
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black hand like Gavrillo |
