| I never had real friends 'til now
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| I never had to steal endz 'cause that’s foul
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| I walk the streets with the baseball bat feelin’secure
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| but I try not to incite fights that’s immature
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| actions that come back to haunt
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| I work hard to get the things that I want
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| and never flaunt
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| never post where the most guys post high
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| I keep my focus towards the ground
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| and pound
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| any brother who’s my ace to my face
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| even if snakes on the unda'
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| I try not to wonda'
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| trainin’my brain wit’mental anguish
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| strange, it’s rather eerie
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| clearly
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| just a whim
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| I adjust the hymn
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| deal with the dealers and the squealers and the jockeys
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| I can take the fizz out the carbonated copy
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| imprints are made in the sand as I walk
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| dim hints reveal rather grand as I talk
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| small individuals seem larger
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| when they take charge of their antics
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| makin’them gigantic
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| so you never suspect their neck bein’strained
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| so many situated thoughts in the brain
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| heavy weight gain
|
| so I weight train
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| 'cause to me the weight gain
|
| is a great gain
|
| and I hate sane individuals
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| close they nose to new aromas
|
| I got the smellin’salts that are prone ta'
|
| clear the nasal, daze
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| you’ll probably make a raise to a new level
|
| and see the true devil
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| any color ya wish because the devil takes any shape,
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| any form
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| any swarm
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| ride over your dish like a picnic
|
| I think the sick shit
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| I had my wrist slit
|
| like a suicide
|
| but I survived
|
| and you can too
|
| plan to live a full life free of anxieties
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| while you’re at it try to keep an eye on me The man with meditation skills
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| wastin’spills, lyrical liquid
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| fillin’streams
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| wit’dreams
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| and I will cream whoever seems wicked
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| oral floral arrangements
|
| is strange since
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| you don’t have the comprehension
|
| I will stop and lynch them
|
| I’m not the one promotin’gun totin'
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| 'cause I contain within my brain these computations just as potent
|
| the mental torturer of course you will acknowledge me
|
| 'cause Mr. Twister places pictures, mental fixtures of photography
|
| shitty little bitties never get their clitties done, but I don’t think
|
| they’ll resist
|
| Mr. Twister
|
| when I flex my verbal techs.
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| exit
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| mental anorexic
|
| I don’t cater to the imbecile so you can bet this
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| is a brain buster
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| pain thruster
|
| strain twister
|
| overwhelming pressure between the temples when I touch the microphone
|
| I might condone
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| the usage of abuse if it is convenient
|
| I slant and lean it like a lever when I leave ya mutilated
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| by my enuciated cleaver
|
| I survived the ither and the either
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| now let me take a breather
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| (PAUSE)
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| From my own little world,
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| little girls, little boys
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| stay free of hurries
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| free of worries
|
| that’s riddle poised for posterity
|
| where are we goin’from here
|
| as a ho
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| and I don’t know
|
| and that’s the biggest feeaaar
|
| when I’m flippin’into daaarknesss
|
| now I’m askin’can I spark this?
|
| It’s D-E-L y’all
|
| from Hieroglyphics y’all
|
| sayin’peeeeace.. . |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Eye Examination , by - Del The Funky Homosapien. Song from the album The Best Of Del Tha Funkee Homosapien [The Elektra Years]: The B-Boy Handbook, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп