Lyrics 100% - Clear Soul Forces

100%

Hop in the booth then poof, I turn into Dwight Shrute
A white dude with a twenty-five step plan to blow two cubicles from the air
chute, to get loose
Watching me break them ankles on the court like (Get your bitch ass up)
Or I’m stepping over you, huh or I’m stepping on you with two pumps 'bout to
jump and use the platform
Catapult myself into a storm with nothing else on but my bare arms
Dodge a swarm with no protection on I think they call it ninety-seven point
from now on
But anywizzy, time to get busy, I gets grizzly as free falling to the tallest
building in Mejico city
Land on the edge with my two pinkies and shimmy shimmy down (diggie down)
We be them cynically perverted clowns with a fetish for sending bitch rappers
out to drown from the flow of the sound
No O’neill life vests or floatie rounds, so how you like me now
Handle the microphone on some little light of mine shit, peeping the Jedi mind
trick
This rap shit’ll spark like a lighter do in the dark, orange amber ended tip
flick
My ash upon the asphalt and halt a hater right there
Homie this three dimensional visual we inhabits not even scratching the depths
of this rabbit hole, what up Alice?
My damage to wax is reaction to atoms splitting, we crumble the building,
chasing pussy niggas out they villages
Pardon the dribble drippage, dog we off another bottle we ain’t worried about
tomorrow
That nigga bender a fucking problem, model after model
Pluck they ass right out the garden and pardon my assy grabby
That’s just my pursuit of happiness
How you gon' tell me I ain’t out of my gourd
My style came from reading the Anarchist Cookbook with a chef’s hat on
And an apron to keep grenades in, explode my way to greatness on some Michael
Bay shit
To your playlist, while you analyze the strength of my game and hate on it like
Skip Bayless
Tell a itch-bay, when I it-spay it’s cold as the Lin Kuei
The Sub-Zero linguistics, Shang Tsung from an alternate dimension
Giving the soul back to the rap but I’m still killing, abusing
They don’t televise revolution so we settle for headphones and soothing the
worlds acoustics too creative for 9 to 5's
Graduated college they had me using a mop, lines sharper than Sweeney Todd’s
So let me give you a shape up, the Razor’s Edge rhymes like
Scott Hall in his prime, flicking tooth picks in your eyes nigga
Every night I’d dream I never close my eyes I don’t sleep a lot
Folgers flows heating up your coffee pots
Hour power naps is unorthodox crack your fucking necks to the beat
Vertebrates will nod passionately feel passion personified
Potential at its pinnacle I hear vocals peaking
Sneaking glimpses of the lyrical that all seeing
I’m feeling like ten Tom peeping cities on our back, I’m bout to Chiaotzu (Boom)
Kamikaze season spirit bomb booth, I got the jihadist soul, with faith I’mma
blow too
I tell 'em check it y’all, we came to wreck a record y’all
Rapping wrecking ball, I bang your mic soon as you hit record
Now, now, so how you like me now, now?
How you like me now, how you like me now, now?