Lyrics Oh Hail No - El-P, Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire, Danny Brown

Oh Hail No

Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?
On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself
Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself
I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else
Who me?
Every breath is a criminal, critical breach
Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo
Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle
That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article
Originator decay, caterwaul brand, Dawn Treader rising
Hollow man bop, gliding
Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling
Could be the high or just mind control dying
Fuck it throw me on the problem pile
I’m a grin from the garbage, stained parchment
Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment
Waiting for that «Hark hear that archangel calling?»
Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear
I’ve been told I was put here to fail
But never ask me to hail
Never ask me to hail
I’m strapped in shaved head in an electric chair
With a grin going out with a flair
But never ask me to hail
Never ask me to hail
Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine
Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time
Maybe I’m lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire
Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire
Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-
Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot
Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock
No I won’t piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac
Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes
Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile
Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky
(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock
Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear
I’ve been told I was put here to fail
But never ask me to hail
Never ask me to hail
I’m strapped in shaved head in an electric chair
With a grin going out with a flair
But never ask me to hail
Never ask me to hail
Check!
The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition
I’m shitting on their writtens while I’m pissing on their freestyles
My patterns are argyle, your’s more checker board
My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector
With techniques I tech up your sector
Inspector Gadget with the ratchet
Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit
But not a furry bunny bitch I’m all about these moneys
Ah!
Tummy empty and I’m dazed when sunny
So I had to sell crack cause I ain’t wanna be bummy
Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy
Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny
Done.
This nigga here is not a dummy
Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy
Gummy bear you running where?
It’s like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs
I’m Ric Flair, with thick hair
Yelling out «Woo!»
getting head in the director’s chair