dazzle star I might be Scribble scrabble on the microphone I babble As I flip the funky words, into a puzzle Yes yes yes, on and on as I flex Get with
so. Ten minutes? [beeping] Oh, that might be them! Hey? Ten minutes! LYRICS: Fatty cells expand when we take the mic in hand Check out the land on
again My pen drip the ink for the saints Blood of the sphinx Kiss my owl on his head While I feed him unleavened bread Point the infrared on enemies
be done on earth, as it is in heaven Give us this day, our daily bread Forgive us for our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us Lead us
beat Man, if I got to say, "I'm the shit fool" one more time... somebody gonna get urinated on. And then boo boo'd on And then a nut busted on. Happy
useless, like the right arm on Bob Dole Behold, the manifold of a black Aristotle Roadkillin' MC's, with my hand on the throttle Smashin' em all, mashin
a Macintosh Battle scars, also trynna figure out your avatar Leave the cameras on, told ya partner that he can't perform Brought a torch to burn the building, he think I'ma hand
Who can stop us when we mash for our dreams Death Row brought us some life, mash for our dreams Everywhere we go we mash on, mamamash for our dreams Who
They don't like us Word up They don't like us They ain't gotta like us fuck them son Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama Hangin' your ass
, his mans, they commit crimes found out you tryin' to fuck with his dime you layed your life on the line but the cards are in my hands I love this rich
ice, I bet the price on the fling of the dice, Shorty with me, we slingin' a pipe, Chrome thing on right, one on the wip, it'll ring on your top And I
your avatar Leave the cameras on, told ya partner that he can't perform Brought a torch to burn the building, he think I'ma hand it to him [Verse 7 -
mans, they commit crimes found out you tryin' to fuck with his dime you layed your life on the line but the cards are in my hands I love this rich man
strikes again, chalk my win Kleptomaniac attracts CREAM stacks from eight pens And sticky hands wit crazy glue like finger tips shoplift Or pass crews on
in the night pouring style and form And that venomous shit is what my bitches be on Bitches, bitches be on My bitches, bitches be on [Verse 2:] Yo,