Lyrics Time 2 Get Right - Masters Of Illusion

Time 2 Get Right

Wisdom Born is my physical degree, in the month of Understanding
Wisdom Culture my seed birthday, all born to Wisdom Cypher
Big rhymin since Bill Power
Knowledge Power, later and I’m still the epiphany
Close related to a symphony with mad instruments trapped inside of me
I bang the drum and blow the horn
Rappers they follow, like little +Children of the Corn+
Vegetables, at the table like the Huxtables
Sit at the table 'til you finish all your morsels
Out the door, hit the interstate, who sound state
Snatchin up Keith, a transplant from the tri-state
Jheri curls, with finger waves, all shuckin
It’s two big, gorilla arms and mad ducats
Bust in your house like the little man Mighty Mouse
Piss on your TV cause you watchin all the wrong channels
Step out your house in your Sunday’s best brown flannel
Rockin your khakis, you a tall kid, they fit me baggy
You try to follow I’mma end it for you retromendric
That means I piss backwards, like a cat
Hug up your dome like a pro-fitted hat
As you twist the hat, turn the hat, flip the hat, spin the hat
Still lookin good in the trunk of my Cadillac
Keith I’m classic, I’m passin you the flame homey
Burn the plastic, the world that you once told me
It’s time to get right
Flamboyant status
Smack a cop
N’ia what?
Open him up, autopsy, look at the body from the ankles
Up to the neck up, banana clip bring the tec up
Pick up pick up pick up pick up, that’s some out there
By the ambulance, emergency room packed up, ward and backed up
Patrol cars, black & whites get hype
Caprice Classics chase me in old Mavericks
Sharp switchblades like I’m a tourist from Mexico, «hey bro»
I cut your face like I’m doin a tattoo of a statue
Why you think I’m mad at you?
Spontaneous action
Get you smacked and, everybody at the new release Arista party packed in
Cover your ass cause everybody’s on the guest list
Didn’t come from the front, they came from the back
Stole your 600, watch Puerto Ricans strip it down
Disconnect your Lojack, amateurs duck down it’s a pro act
With Guinness a-pourin through your urinary tract
Hamburgers flow, you mad, you end up with a shake and a Big Mac
Kenny L, clientele, givin orders through Pacific Bell
Guard your collect calls, leave you in the lobby room
One bag in the mall, have your one minute gone from pre-paid phone calls
Call back and hang up, call back and hang up, call back and hang up
Caller ID bring my name, anniversary season
Who can produce movies without me like «Rhyme & Reason»
N’ia what?
It’s time to get right