shut the f*** up and die is what i really wanna say to you
hope someone hits you in your face til its 80 different shades of blue
isnt there anything better you got to do than jock my crew
i sever contenders and render the hearing process impossible
you talk trash behind my back and try to act like you know me
but when you see me at the show you give me dap like we're homies
remember bad day thought i was through talkin s***
now im like f*** the world just cause you walk on it
yo when the stink of burnt bridges inches into the end zone
or every breath of bad karma's reciprocated tenfold
enjoy that last boogie when life raises the gavel
and symbolizes your very last chance to act like an a******
plastic soldiers grabbin at they holsters
tryna burst imaginary heaters in their ghost wars
each jackals eventually slip backwards
showcasing how to best waste their life by tryna dismantle the patchwork
if you pass this test
i'll be sure to pin your red badge of courage through your chest flesh
with swift hands the way your blood'll flood you'll switch plans
til blue water's red quicksand
seeping deeper into the potion
i'll bottle my j*** and sell it to your wisdom as some hand lotion
i walk the fine line between being ill and being sick
and you walk the fine line between being a p**** and being a b****
i hold attention spans like drumsticks and play solos that sound like coltrane high on cocaine
and now the clouds are quarter notes and i'm a motor man thinking i can float but
maybe i'm delirious and this is a psychedelic experience
either way i know it makes me a better lyricist
and you aint hardly hard
in fact you a coward
that backbites behind closed doors like marv albert
its the sour taste self-esteem swallowed through a straw
enough to make your stomach bloat and leave a swollen jaw
i'm holdin b****
you're holding breath
how much of your soul is left
frozen steps snooze b***on perpetual overslept
wake the f*** up
sit the f*** down
shut your f***hole and ask yourself what now
rip em to shreds
lift em by the head
spin em around and let em look at what they did to the bread
roll over sit fetch play dead beg
the political alignment walks with a peg leg
i patch celebrations of an awkward opus
not because it's fly but simply because i can identify
i carry the type of clout that sneaks below the radar
the less they know about is the more that i can take apart
i got a few famous alter egos inside of my frame
it's how i deal with these people that donut know my real name
i fired the angels, hired a miser to hide in the rainbows
i murdered the worthless merchants purely for kick in the same old same ol
you're what happens when god hiccups
the content in a fraction of my product will leave your whole project crushed
the orphanage god equality crew
you got a bunch of teeny boppers followin you
to all you pastel poets im talkin to you
whose the gay rapper? it's probably you
word print they all hoe cakes
no flava like cookies that are no-bake
i like sacks fully b***ered up with no shake
we prepare rare forms five snowflakes
the wack get no breaks
now these here brittle b****** cuddle up to syncopated sixes in triplicate
i cripple it just to fiddle with the syllabus
i hate slackers; they burn through my city by thickening up the atmosphere and thinning out the madness
whatever the language, blueprint freaks it well
from visual basic down to speak-n-spell
i'll even battle these weak emcees in braille
not to be f***** with any emcee can tell
cause you the cat that packs pen caps to peace they thought train
i sodomize em with sick prune sticks to watch em walk strange
slug drowns em in spit, eyedea snaps the camera
aesop prepares eulogies in iambic pentameter
its the orphanage; certified kevorkians
rappers be torturing my d*** chapped lips'll leave the foreskin ripped
unless you're giving props put a cork in it
as i give you a new reason never to record your s***
we've spent the most time workin this gold mine
everybody's got they own story; i wrote mine
everybody's got they own words; you quote mine
everybody thinks i'm f***** nuts, wanna hold mine?
hope someone hits you in your face til its 80 different shades of blue
isnt there anything better you got to do than jock my crew
i sever contenders and render the hearing process impossible
you talk trash behind my back and try to act like you know me
but when you see me at the show you give me dap like we're homies
remember bad day thought i was through talkin s***
now im like f*** the world just cause you walk on it
yo when the stink of burnt bridges inches into the end zone
or every breath of bad karma's reciprocated tenfold
enjoy that last boogie when life raises the gavel
and symbolizes your very last chance to act like an a******
plastic soldiers grabbin at they holsters
tryna burst imaginary heaters in their ghost wars
each jackals eventually slip backwards
showcasing how to best waste their life by tryna dismantle the patchwork
if you pass this test
i'll be sure to pin your red badge of courage through your chest flesh
with swift hands the way your blood'll flood you'll switch plans
til blue water's red quicksand
seeping deeper into the potion
i'll bottle my j*** and sell it to your wisdom as some hand lotion
i walk the fine line between being ill and being sick
and you walk the fine line between being a p**** and being a b****
i hold attention spans like drumsticks and play solos that sound like coltrane high on cocaine
and now the clouds are quarter notes and i'm a motor man thinking i can float but
maybe i'm delirious and this is a psychedelic experience
either way i know it makes me a better lyricist
and you aint hardly hard
in fact you a coward
that backbites behind closed doors like marv albert
its the sour taste self-esteem swallowed through a straw
enough to make your stomach bloat and leave a swollen jaw
i'm holdin b****
you're holding breath
how much of your soul is left
frozen steps snooze b***on perpetual overslept
wake the f*** up
sit the f*** down
shut your f***hole and ask yourself what now
rip em to shreds
lift em by the head
spin em around and let em look at what they did to the bread
roll over sit fetch play dead beg
the political alignment walks with a peg leg
i patch celebrations of an awkward opus
not because it's fly but simply because i can identify
i carry the type of clout that sneaks below the radar
the less they know about is the more that i can take apart
i got a few famous alter egos inside of my frame
it's how i deal with these people that donut know my real name
i fired the angels, hired a miser to hide in the rainbows
i murdered the worthless merchants purely for kick in the same old same ol
you're what happens when god hiccups
the content in a fraction of my product will leave your whole project crushed
the orphanage god equality crew
you got a bunch of teeny boppers followin you
to all you pastel poets im talkin to you
whose the gay rapper? it's probably you
word print they all hoe cakes
no flava like cookies that are no-bake
i like sacks fully b***ered up with no shake
we prepare rare forms five snowflakes
the wack get no breaks
now these here brittle b****** cuddle up to syncopated sixes in triplicate
i cripple it just to fiddle with the syllabus
i hate slackers; they burn through my city by thickening up the atmosphere and thinning out the madness
whatever the language, blueprint freaks it well
from visual basic down to speak-n-spell
i'll even battle these weak emcees in braille
not to be f***** with any emcee can tell
cause you the cat that packs pen caps to peace they thought train
i sodomize em with sick prune sticks to watch em walk strange
slug drowns em in spit, eyedea snaps the camera
aesop prepares eulogies in iambic pentameter
its the orphanage; certified kevorkians
rappers be torturing my d*** chapped lips'll leave the foreskin ripped
unless you're giving props put a cork in it
as i give you a new reason never to record your s***
we've spent the most time workin this gold mine
everybody's got they own story; i wrote mine
everybody's got they own words; you quote mine
everybody thinks i'm f***** nuts, wanna hold mine?