Showing posts with label American Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Dad. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2014

You'll likely see the type of MC you like doing anything to be hype on the scene... That's why they're fighting wit' schemes...




See, the average's of rappers have been stumped...
You'll likely see the type of MC you like doing anything to be hype on the scene...
That's why they're fighting wit' schemes...
Trying to wrestle wit' bears... that's why the top business prospects are investing in shares
pressed into locked job markets to share with the rest of their peers
That's why the pressure, despair of texture got investors aware...
the treasures is here... middle class citizens can't get a career...
litigation's and tyranny... appear to be
the only ones of hearing thee' down low on clowns, yo...
They now know... ready to pressure the game...
More than any one adventure contains
Hard to mention my name... school yard bully
to the elementary frame... hard talk, their defense is the same...
All squawk, call a birdie to that...
Train of thought got aim when I'm wording a track...
Out of my shell, hard cracked... like Taco Bell...
Devil's pie serving it, every step's a walk in hell...
I've lost my bravado, stopped caring for this...
I guess doing it still adds to my arrogant niche...
It's a cliche to say I have drive, arrive on the Free way...
But still be a merchant "on line", like it's Ebay...
It's ya D-day. Sweet, make the teeth ache.
While you work the machines, aye, I'll be there with the free weights...
I freebase... going out of every flow, like a speed chase...
Each pace, got baggage, like Springer does with a brief case...
Yeah that raw flow... Alaskan cod...
Setting out that master rod... out of this world, it looks like I crashed my pod...
like Roger did... no Stan Smith...
Grown man shit... your blow make a fan quit...
Hungry still, I'm ready for the banquet...
Ahead of my times, lines plan to outlive my grand kids...
Fuck is you saying? Talking about you hustling...
They don't put muscle in... I'm like, "where your hustle been?"
Where it at? Cause out here, I'm gearin' black...
Twins come out, get you and the misses - call it the Parent Trap...

Friday, May 16, 2014

So give me this ratchet, bitch. A prick, more than a Cactus is. I crack your ribs on the McDonald's Arches, so I can watch it split at several different axises.




LOL @ the dust around from the mushroom cloud crushing, wow!
Fucking clown! Yeah, how does it feel to be under ground?
(Huh?) Literally. You can't get rid of me. Every bit of D-
N-A is like a relay of keys placed, for you to Freebase... on
A destructive nature of touching paper.
A victim of habit.
Up in your head, cause he lives in the attic like Roger
from American Dad, scribbling at is.. notebook..
with Rachel McAdams face on the cover... he's physically had it.
Needs Zoloft to doze off. So his father keeps...
given em' tablets..
He sits in the blackness, drawing pictures of catfish.
Why? Cause he's miserable, and considerably tragic.
If you look at him, his innards are like a miniature of sinister lashes.
So give me this ratchet, bitch.
A prick, more than a Cactus is.
I crack your ribs on the McDonald's Arches, so I can watch it split
at several different axises.
I don't know what I'd do without this rapping shit, I'd probably hijack
the tractor which... flipped over. One Zimmmerman shaved.
I should live in a cave. Every psychic evaluation I've had, says I'm insane.
But I'm not, it's just one hell of a game.
Well... at least that's what I'm telling my brain.
Tell Gallagher, I'm a watermelon of pain. I got so much Melatonin
swelling my veins, I got Senators saying I should be hired into a chair, instead of McCain.
I'm sorry, but my sickness doesn't have a medical name.
Take so much adderall, and anesthetics for pain, that medics complain.
Oh right. I wasn't supposed to go after my Celph.
Shit. I mastered my self.
Whooping ass. just took the latch off his belt....AND asked me for help (what?)
Ha. Inside joke for ... but what I pave will get bumpy
when I go for the X-Files, like I'm David Duchovny!

Elephant Music. All Tusk. And it gets played in the trunk, b.
In other-words, I'm saying it's funky. You gays get serrated to lunch meat!