| I prayed to God for his blessing to consent slaughter
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| Your seven ounces of brain holds two percent water
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| Literally, your dry ideas belong under your armpits
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| Fully armed spit, my palm slick with this engraved
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| Vakill, in quotations, «the nicest», after I come fuck this liquid Hell
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| Only hoes that’s giving head is getting floatation devices
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| Digest words to kill by, autopilot my technique
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| So even if I sleep on my own shit, it’s still fly
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| I’m God’s only begotten renegade angel, saint sinner, make anemic hemmorhage
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| I can draw a graphic scenic image with paint thinner
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| Let the bullshit stop 'til it screech with hot lead
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| I beseech hip-hop heads 'til the tooth brush is obsolete
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| Meaning fuck around and catch a reach flip-top head, I set respectable trends
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| Tell the sickest emcees blueprint my testicle skin
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| Don’t worry if I write rhymes, I write checks to your chin
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| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
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| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
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| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
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| Cause the darkest cloud shall rain the rest of your natural life span
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| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
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| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
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| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
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| Cause the darkest cloud!
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| I voice a oral crucifixion with a mouth full of nine inch nails
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| Conceptually blazing it trails, with your skeletal remains and entrails
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| In pales, snug and cushy, my hip-hop status is c-section (why?)
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| Cause I’m a cut above you pussies
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| My DNA splice with a Japanese feudal lord
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| Brutal sword lacerations with impartial rhymes
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| Keep a bitch that’s a 10, pimping’s like Farrakhan with cerebral palsy
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| I can start a million march of dimes
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| Significant severed uncertain signs
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| Salivating circles around cyphers of a venomous serpent kind
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| Dizzying bitches, murking niggas, grizzly and vicious
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| 'Til they minus Flesh-N-Bone like Layzie, Krayze, Bizzy and Wish’s
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| Who the sickest shitting this year?
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| And your continuation of breathing all depends on how good is the answers
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| Fuck up and the judge will sentence me so many times
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| You’ll have to indent this shit and put it in stanzas
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| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud shall rain the rest of your natural life span
|
| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud!
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| I don’t talk shit, I give shit a second language
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| You ass-betting in dyslexic Spanglish, hope for the best but expect the anguish
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| Presently, sleepers dying pissed off
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| And my sole solution for the chronic bedwetting is electric blankets
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| My diatribe murks entire tribes
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| I’m the thirteenth ghost from drama’s future
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| So when I make the alphabet before Karma Sutra
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| The English language’ll have to be staple stitched back together with
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| Stainless steel armored sutures
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| Drunken word techniques from mental and Taquina liquor
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| Shit bananas with a peel and a Chiquita sticker
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| Heat a clip up, shush kids to sleep
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| Spitting Korean entrepreneur flows that push wigs to eat
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| Illuminous whip, darkest cloud cumulous thick
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| Shrap numerous cliques, cancer tumor is sick
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| Nickel slick, quick humorous spit
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| Liquid sword salivation 'til throats of every consumer is slit
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| Shit, in a recessive state my flows are ego spectacle
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| If I was born with one nut, I’d still be ego-testicle
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| And niggas shit-popping more instead of worth they weight
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| Can’t hold a fucking candle to me with Bob Hope’s birthday cake
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| I’ve enhanced the Jordan rules
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| Putting bodies on the Mike and watch the flyest nigga leap to his death
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| If the name of my profession is «fuck you»
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| Then basically what I’m trying to say is… never mind, my work speaks
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| For itself
|
| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud shall rain the rest of your natural life span
|
| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud!
|
| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud shall rain the rest of your natural life span
|
| Bow down to a entity none of y’all nice than
|
| Put your tool on safety and a mic in the mic stand
|
| Your fight plan’s now in Christ’s hands
|
| Cause the darkest cloud! |