Lyrics Code #829 - A-F-R-O

Code #829

A slower melody over enemy torture
Let it be sober, ending trending ready Lebenese coitus
Send a friend request to the nearest whore or location
The form of more basis, the orvedour statement
Horrorcore placement sure scorns the lights off
The mic soft, pourin' more sight into your eye socket
Fourth chamber, savor more and more danger
Angered force, mourn lady, born porn, torn maiden
Sure major, knew a lady bitch named Lourdes Sheva
Lady dame, but it take eight straight razors to shave her
Nasty jungle, and she’s Abernathy’s cousin
Now Abernathy had given A-F-R-O the toungin'
And Abernathy had asshole fungus
That is not a laughing matter, ass full of yucky mess
Somethin' says Jam Master Jay spray turntable
Earned wager, stabbed half of pay, trade a learned, stable…
Mind
(Imitating the vampire pimp off of Sesame Street, The Count)
Two plus two, ah
Flashing lights run past, Thundercats, shunned and snatched
Some dumb monkey, run it fast
Obliterated, a fiddle rated, aminitive hangin'
Get 'em and lift the pages, disintegrated, a minute to savor
Changin' the pace, bangin' the bass, Alex Nejera
Fate is erased, rapin' the wasted hour to check up
The makin' of taking, shaping the game and laying the terror
The prayer is saying, aiming to be shaking James in the mirror
You worse at, few short stance
Black and white like Eamon and his New York hat
Singing and swinging a song like Bjork vocals
See, you’re lower in each treaty, seashore drownin'
Sounding it louder, and slap you with hand powder
I’m Chowder, devour the hour with towers of powers, allowin'
To cower, the coward, and how are you clownin' to growl up
With A-F-R-O devourin' mandibles
Scattered, now I am out of it
I’m sour as Jack Bauer, intact child
Impact, mix-matched, dick-smacked defiled her
Blind Toxic, headphones over his ears
Over his fears, swarmin' syllables colder than beer
Frozen over a year, surin' to tear
Freestyle, now you know that I — yeah — be rockin' it
Pulse Reaction, foes' souls told to bask
In a blow spazm, in toast to Fantom
Explodes the fashion, with toes bashin'
Listen, when I get the pedicure
Manicure, niggas oughta know because I"m sad at your
Mad attack and recant it, the fan of mannin' the data dome
The candidate’ll always do damage up at your front door
Now you’re grandmama picky
«Dear lerd chil’ren»
Niggas oughta know, see, or fear it
The rat-a-tat-ta-tata
GRATATA
(?) to shock ya
Like CPR, the TV — doh!
— the TV’s dark!
Ma’fucka, get the brightness!
And you just might like this…
Swift with it…