Lyrics Noon Chuckas - Gangrene

Noon Chuckas

The pen is still soiled
I spill that oil like Pennzoil
Then peel you like tin foil
The game has been spoiled
Call up that temp lawyer
Blame it on the sanity so they could get help for you
I play these bars over that Dorner
That lost soldier, that sober
That ogre, that boss told you 'It's over,' then dog, it’s over
Kid keep the nines with the Cobra, that Sly nigga Stallone’d ya
That Rock and Roll Hall of Fame material after I stone ya
You a loner, I specialize in aromas
I let 'em sniff what I roll up, a glimpse of that California
Then put 'em in that deep level of a coma
They rolling up all that zona, see, y’all don’t want me to chauffeur
See, y’all don’t want me to show or come and fuck up your sofa
Bunch of little crumbs like I was dumping a toaster
Bunch of fucking bums chill when y’all heads post up
Before y’all roast up, we’ll be there to get that Hope cut
Ayo, hold up
Sit yo' bitch ass down
Count this right here
Get money, fuck bitches, turn knobs, touch switches
While I cut pies and serve dishes
Smell the scent from the kitchen, I’m on a mission
Keep the low from the toaster oven until it crispin'
Play the door while I perform, you collect admission
Needles skipping, the loop’s on repetition
Palms itching, stand on the mound of dirt like a pitcher
While I’m rubbing my money grip, it’s for friction
It’s the bumbaclot clot rasta caucasian blowing wax
Limbs relax like a tropical vacation
See me in the public, same on the mini-cam
Compose Doctor No, Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam
Rhythm and Blues Brothers
Flow through the gutter like used rubbers
Chain swinging like some Noon Chuckas
I’m a criminal advocate, money magnet
Saran wrap the work, you looking comfortable bagging it
Under pressure, I’m a survivor
I could throw 'em a time or let 'em expire
Rocking the fresh J’s, white T attire
With dirty Levis, nobody flier
They must have wings to achieve getting higher
Remember, y’all the customers and we the suppliers
'Cause we distributing that high to the clients with an institute
We teaching the pilots how to fly it
See us broken down into a science, read the signs
It said it’s full of chemicals inside it
Like cooking got it bubbling and frying
And it’s only trouble 'cause you niggas know it’s death defying
I bare hand scrap, trying rumble with a lion
And I’m an animal, who the fuck you eyeing?
'Cause you know we ain’t buying it, we supplying it
Sending ships pirating while they rioting
Aargh!