Из альбома: Poor People's Day
TNS
The new and improved
The new fangled monochromatic Steppin Fetchit in high definition
He's Ben Vereen Bojangles tap-dancin in this
Ten million chameleons and all of them gray
For the mind state is that of cubical space
Thinking of these verses as a thought grenade or worst case scenario a disintegration ray
Your pumping heart becomes the blank canvas
Whether we paint pretty pictures of flowers or a masterpiece of epic anguish
For my tour de force I downstroy your sign language
Make the sign of a fist and punch you square in your cabbage
Look around Dorothy you done missed your exit
We past Kansas
This be South West Atlanta
Where they run the West Cost offense with killa running backs and a flotilla of Bela Lugosis
In the back safety
It ain't safe see
So hide behind your most trusted reinforcements
My squad of stampeding elephants hit the record store
Samples scream for they life as if we was Lizzie Borden
Knowing full well they get chopped up in the morning and served with tea and crumpets
For in life you either a big game safari hunter or cute furry hunted
Forget the hardest thug ass rapper
I make nerdy suburban MCs be on some gun shit
Mad as hell 'cuz I came underhanded like a softball pitch covered in slimy spit
Bring your "A" game or end up a stuffed museum exhibit
I got connections at the illest Stepfather Factory ever
From here on out serving you nothing but sleep for dinner
You mad?
You better catch me in between blinks or moonwalking backwards on air with velvet slippers
I'm that fuckin' nigga
The bulletproof saint
My spinning metal halo spits titanium chromidium razor blades
In a 360-degree radius of time, energy, and space
From the twenty-eighth dimension where I contemplate over earth's dominion
You need blueprints to construct a stargate to escape the ass whipping knowing no ending
You'll be begging for any fat lady to start singing
Banished to the outer edge of infinity
Sentenced to pummel you senseless
Your guardian angels will be nowhere to be found
There'll be no Jehovah to witness
Consult your paganistic mystic
Your daily horoscope will read absolutely horrific
Your palm reader will be like "Oh Shit!"
Here comes that new legend
That don't spit that old Aunt Jemima folklore
The galactic revolutionary
Galloping on the back of crazy horse with a blue laser to blast these big lips on Mt
Rushmore
Bringing you face to face with the newest in evolution
Welcome to the future
You've been categorized and archived with pins stuck in your abdomen like a pretty butterfly
You purple?
Step to a nigga and find out exactly what happens when doves cry