Lyrics Way Cool - Freestyle Fellowship

Way Cool

Play it cool…
And don’t make no fast moves…
Do you really-really-really wanna play it cool?
You don’t even know who we are!
I ran in the house from the rain
Walked to the top of the stairs, then I turned
Looked at the room on the left
There she was, Her
Bang on the bed looking pretty but she burned
Snatched off the ring with a yank
Pulled out the shank and I dismembered her
Dancing around in the yard
Juggling jars full of souls (errr?)
Dump in the ditch in the back
Next to a shrub and a tree and a fern
Move from the friends that I planted underneath
Beneath were worms squirm
There was a storm that night
Flight from the rithering feather?
I stand stiff as if I was rest in peace decease
Please pass the lamb chop
Table full of dead people hitting the table
Is what perceived me
Omen’s
Black cats and cataracts
Dark omen’s
Come in a sewer system for my victims
Middle evict em?
contradictum
Stabb in the back?
An open a cavity?
Step back?
Oh God, mama, Jesus, Allah, Jah!
I didn’t do nothing, I didn’t see nothing
Oh, Grim reaper
Myka niiieeii
With steady body back steppin'
Where are all the children gentlemen
The devil perceve?
The rival redemed
The death of a community settlements?
Six dead men
Six dead women
Six barbecue lays
Of sauteed devils
Are done away
I run away
At night I live to fight another day
Despicable omens
Lots of bold folks too
Ones foot in, two foot in
I’m serving them homo-sapien stew
Dinner time
Holla?
no for looking at fine?
Four chicks maximum fillets
Funky and fried?
Finger licking human chicken, breast, legs, thighs, thighs
This is where the world annual cannibal time, time
Yo man, how d’ya get the meat outta of there
Suck it and throw the bones in the bucket
Damn!
That hit the spot satis-fine fine
Something you didn’t test but not to contest
With the purest wickedness for the wicked sign…
I swarm in the center of the circle with style-change
Striking your brain, finger nail to the jugular vein
Half of dance floor is stained with type-O
Your body hits the floor, your homie catches a
E-L-bow to the throat let your body flow
Well I sat in the back of the radio shack
With the axe and a fat sack, hat to the back
Could have jacked, could have sold crack, could of rat packed
Could of napped, could of slowed back, could of rolled craps
Could it fall flat back like a flap jack stack
But I’m black and an acrobat, and I know the facts
Imma wax, Imma tax, I’mma break a back!
Gotta rap, gotta trap, then I gotta strap
On the track on attack and I’m on a map
Sick of the crap, listen to the gat, bang
Yakety yak don’t talk wack
Slick like a alley cat dirty like a rat
First up to bat, headed for the shack
I ring along and sing along and bring’em like a pack?
Fresh off the rack, giving the body slack
I greet him like a soldier, and beat him with my gat
And then I go walking through another man’s mind
Chopping up his membrane sliding down his spine
Under his skin is crawling, germy, jellies moving blind
Burning smelling turning creole
With the weight of world swine?
You’re slow, every breathe a take you defecate and hurl
I’m in you, I spin you continue I see you
Can’t you hear me gnawing
And sawing your bone
An end on a feeding?
internal bleeding foam
Full blown, creepy, crazy
Cool
Turning around and around, my darling
Turning around and around…