Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dianetics, artist - Curly CastroAlbum song Rome, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 02.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Backwoodz Studioz
Song language: English
Dianetics |
| What up science? |
| Old man Logan with a natural Black cock |
| Me not like foley the axel |
| See the black planet tilted on its axis |
| Run a company criss, a sky remain a practice |
| Raw thing, fallout party planet done in secret |
| Cockroach Cosby rocks control seekers |
| Leaflets dropped from helicopt’s been circling |
| Still don’t make no black cops believers |
| Waterboard some blue terror into my nostrils |
| I breathe through my Gil Scott Heron apostle |
| Sitting in a seance, cross from Sonya Sanchez |
| Mask science and then we break bread |
| Put our omen heads together, turn profit |
| Huey P’s ghost points out pig agnostics |
| Ran into Medusa in hell, give her a shot gun |
| Lift an L and then inhale, what me not got sun? |
| What me not got sun? |
| What me not got sun? |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| Little mama, she just want dance |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| Mistook the stick for an olive branch |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| He got the whole world in his hands |
| Peckerwoods like a pocket square |
| Cold bar, the lay off the blank stares |
| As civilization crumpled into air |
| Laugh aloud 'cause I’m scared |
| Ninety nine problems, better show your work |
| Don’t make me out to be the jerk when you lose your whole flirt with death |
| Lurched to the steps of the church, you’ve lost your nerve |
| Verses murked, the snipers perch |
| Blurry footage of perp' who caught the chill |
| William Hurt, kept it real |
| That White guilt won’t work |
| As he turned, the black, he smirked |
| Meaning duty he shirked |
| My weed jar burp Bulawayo sweat through a shirt |
| Travel with fifty boxes of dirt |
| Bloodsuckers, motherfuckers never loved us |
| Bastards' children have a way of just showin' up |
| Pale as fuck, two holes in the neck |
| You ain’t expect to see me on your doorstep |
| The Queen’s English is my bitch |
| Rode hard, put away wet |
| You mad as shit |
| Never mind that, you gon' invite me in? |
| Lips fat as yours is thin, but same sly grin |
| You gon' invite me in? |
| Uh, is them again |
| Uh, is them again |
| Uh, is them again |
| Uh, is them again |
| Uh, is them again |
| Uh, is them again |
| Cherry-eyed dragon swivel dipped me in the fountainhead |
| Metal mouth the house you want the balcony selects |
| Eggbeater brain all was quiet when he came through |
| Rappers all cotton bless to God that’s how we made good |
| Blue blocker vision my religion isn’t one at all |
| Shipping out the schisms, you can’t text back till the final call |
| As the oceans go, projectile vomit on a project wall |
| Spin his vinyl backwards, move your masters, homicidal roar |
| Acid and a spinal cord, friendly fire, cyber war |
| Black messiah by ya sent the dialogue, higher sloth |
| Nun cipher when your higher called, by and large folk |
| They don’t know the science on assignment, don’t get fired on |
| Is that all you locals lower do? |
| Air in the vocals |
| Leaving room for poison darts to fly by and poke you |
| Real god require blood, my sacrifice |
| don’t remove the harpoon |
| You’s a mark fool, your cave bitch swoon |
| The god’s magnetic, stretch, weigh it, measure it |
| Pyrex metric, the dab won’t get it, bang, lost trial |
| Don’t leave the A out of archive, dark time |
| Popping bar flies with the carbine, raw hides |
| Spectacular, a channeller, a gentleman, it’s him again |
| World passport, global citizen |
| (It's him again) |
| (It's him again) |
| (It's him again) |
| (It's them again) |