| Put your money where your mouth is—I'm willing to bet
|
| Place your wages on the table, stop worrying about the dangers
|
| I’m like Courageous Cat. |
| You more like Minute Mouse
|
| You better run into your hole in the wall to where we can’t get you out
|
| My records are ruthless. |
| Like Dre and Eazy
|
| Got you tripping like Clark Kent, Stretch Armstrong, and Beasley
|
| Why you dreaming? |
| You must be sleeping
|
| Touch the water with your toes before you put both your feet in
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| You better look before you leap. |
| The well is deep with flows
|
| I’mma keep it going. |
| Success just reached my nose
|
| You getting crucified and pinned up like beeper codes
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| And when you dead, I’mma bury you where the reaper grows
|
| We Word A' Mouth, Brooklyn Ac', we making history
|
| Mr. Know It All burning you like Listerine
|
| I’m your tutor. |
| Flows are sacred—I'll school ya
|
| When I start dropping gems like Jacob the Jeweler
|
| We got five minutes to waste before this final showcase
|
| This be the kindest invitation to your final destination
|
| Death is waiting with a smile up on his face
|
| These are our famous last words and your final resting place
|
| Come into my arms. |
| I hug the life out ya
|
| Can’t tell if I love or hate ya as I suffocate ya
|
| Make you suffer, rough you up and duct tape ya
|
| Make you tougher like Father Time to Mother Nature
|
| See, the landscape of my mind’s a dark architecture
|
| To see my soul, you gotta deep-sea dive under pressure
|
| Swim into my heart, I guarantee the sharks’ll get ya
|
| Got you looking at the front door like Large Professor
|
| I’m an off-the-Richter, an archangel, an archbishop
|
| Flow like human plasma but I’m harder than scar tissue
|
| Spit thoughts dipped in arsenic and missiles
|
| Bone shards and cartilage. |
| I hardly miss you partly bitch
|
| So start to dig your ditch like the dirt embrace you
|
| And tomb you like your mother’s womb at birth, let earth encase you
|
| Got no feeling, feeling no pulse, full of insults
|
| Block’s chock-full of gorillas and wolves
|
| With the shrillest killer impulse. |
| My nuts are bolts that’s loose
|
| Blew a fuse, plus the bolts is blue. |
| Death wish? |
| I’ll indulge you
|
| Come into my arms, let the flames engulf you
|
| I will set it in the club like we performing pyrotechnics
|
| We got five minutes to waste before this final showcase
|
| This be the kindest invitation to your final destination
|
| Death is waiting with a smile up on his face
|
| These are our famous last words and your final resting place
|
| I hold my arms wide-open, spirits flying
|
| See the world live, frozen. |
| Come to me!
|
| Here’s a invitation. |
| Fuck the stipulations
|
| Time to switch the gauges, hand me, flip the pages
|
| History’s sprinting like a symphony spitting
|
| It’s a mystery. |
| Listen (Shhh)
|
| It’s pulling you closer like some fresh toast out of the toaster, wake you up
|
| And make you see the truth, make a child leave his youth, grow old and reproduce
|
| Come into my arms and fall into my soul
|
| You gonna lose control like water moves a boat
|
| It’s all the rules they wrote that made you leave the nest
|
| You underwater and you need a breath (Huuuh)
|
| How deep can the picture get?
|
| How thick is the paint when it’s dripping-wet?
|
| Better hold on fast ‘cause we doing the dash
|
| Follow the path or swallow the wrath—it's burning
|
| The clock is turning back. |
| Check the thermostat
|
| It’s too hot—son, you losing track. |
| And I’m
|
| Get a grasp and I’m…
|
| We got five minutes to waste before this final showcase
|
| This be the kindest invitation to your final destination
|
| Death is waiting with a smile up on his face
|
| These are our famous last words and your final resting place |