Itâs that kid that loves animals spittinâ those flammables, driving moms crazy like fine young cannibals. Donât get upset âcause my flowâs so natural. You mad âcause Iâm stylinâ on you all casual. These other cats are kinda jealous (must be those raps). They so humbling and bust egos fast. Is it âcause I got by and didnât need no gat? Or âcause I roll with nine dimes like Tuxedo Mask. Either way, whoâs hurtinâ kids? Whoâs earning chips with a verbal gift and whoâs working shifts? Who cruises on crews leaving blue-purple lips and disperses verses so superfluous? (Get âem Socks.) No doubt, you know we got skills, while these midgets ainât equipped to rep the Lollipop Guild. Nah - Iâma save that for the flight âcause after tonight a lot of cats wonât know how to act with a mic - word.
I call this recreation. They call it desecration. Put your sweat into your rep, guess you could say I wreck creations. Without a hesitation known for blessing stages. Donât test your fate: a blender ainât the place you wanna rest your face in.
Weâre back in effect. Another patch on the vet. Cashier cross-eyed when she cashed in the cheque. Gimme that paper âcause Iâm past the respect (spend the kind of cash on pasta you have to for rent). Cliques rollinâ deep, we bound to get live. The Undercrown hoodie with the red and brown highs. Twenty bucks cover? Shit, Iâm down to get mine. Weâre dumbinâ out, thumbinâ out counterfit fives. On the dancefloor doing tai chi, sipping chai tea, chicks in knee-highs with my man Highny. Creep in a bears coat stares chinese, chinese chick stares back like âwhy me?â Pair of eyebrows like Ming the Merciless. Josh in the whip like rings to circuses. Apt in the crates with breaks to murder kids. Bix on the beat like heat to furnaces.
I call this recreation. They call it desecration. Put your sweat into your rep, guess you could say I wreck creations. Without a hesitation known for blessing stages. Donât test your fate: a blender ainât the place you wanna rest your face in.
Socks rocks the populous at prosperous pace, while getting props like an octopus in octaves of eight. Not even talking to the god unless the topic is great, or get George Strombouloupolous knocked in the face homie. Strings swing like some pendulum bling: slung around somebodyâs neck for the attention it brings. From potential to kinetic, guess Iâm made to be king: I sway the groupies, Dave Suzuki, check the nature of things. Unbelievable rap steeze, itâs unseizable. You canât grasp or fathom the wrath thatâs unreachable. In the past assassins attacked the unbreachable, but gasped when they gulped the wrong glass: inconceivable. Kids are fit to fail let alone get the grail. Cruise around for nothinâ, cousin? Stick to sippinâ ginger ale. I breeze like winter gale, leave these rappers sick and frail, ripped the Richter Scale and I was only clippinâ fingernails.
I call this recreation. They call it desecration. Put your sweat into your rep, guess you could say I wreck creations. Without a hesitation known for blessing stages. Donât test your fate: a blender ainât the place you wanna rest your face in.