Wednesday, June 11, 2014

It's just... the Buffalo Bill of the hustling guild.. muscle, f'real.. A tight network of punches - deflecting your shield... My record's the wheel the spins like the pen in the Executives deal...




I am much tougher now, learned to cope
Words had spoken for me in the same sense of security as the nurturing...
Looked at the body of work, started up hearses, then...
continued to process into venues, subconscious
of any reality realm... challenging the balance again... a palace
of styles that are gems... even the Mandarin wants his hand in them...
Word... never learned to adapt... that wasn't my regard...
flying bars, touching the sky n' reaching horizon's stars...
I got my eyes to Mars... looking at Jupiter...
Concepts perplexing to merit, hearing what's new to ya...
I jeopardize the balance who don't recognize my talents...
It's just... the Buffalo Bill of the hustling guild.. muscle, f'real..
A tight network of punches - deflecting your shield...
My record's the wheel the spins like the pen in the Executives deal...
Get left for the kill... soon as I step, the weapon
concealed.... shows it's self.. now it's me and you... no one else.
But fuck that dog eat dog mentality... overthrow the shelf...
Scared Straight 99... "motherfucker, come hold my belt!"
Come hold these pockets, bitch... robbing you of your awesome kicks...
Any freedom you thought you had outside these walls do NOT EXIST...
Yeah, the apocalypse... sirens of mayhem...
From the composed structure of patterns when I try to display em', it's like...
Every subset has its own independent brain...
Mental aim got an exclusive shine, like a pendant's chain...
All these kids washed up... hear the sink idle...
Before it turns on, put your clothes through the rinse cycle...
This shit's psycho... I spit like no
Other on this board, hit high notes... like a Soprano...
I got this mic in my handle n' it's like, I'm lighting a candle...
In the dark of night, fighting with Rambo...
Fuck a butterfly knife, I swipe it right off the mantle..
And get over that hump, like it's a camel... some Sahara shit...
Four arms, some Kintaro shit... with a mask...
We're through the looking glass... n' it's looking good to smash...
I'm not all there... like Snooki's ass...
But it's OK, child... in the Situation, I play with that grade A pile...
roll up a J, WOW...
Then walk out that fucking bitch wit' the same style.. plain foul...
Ignorant. What's my name now?
Oh, that's right. It's the one you see displayed on this rap site...
Cockroaches scatter, like I went and turned on a flashlight...
Coming back from the dead, like I didn't care for a past life...

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