Lyrics:
That's me laying on the carpet
That's me spilling with blood
That's me I'm so fungus
That's me I' m so free
That's me cordyceps ant
That's me cord
[spoken]
No mic check?
[Verse 1: see-Rayz Walz]
I see dead buffalos, on the plains of the horizon
Electromagnetic energy fields like M. Bison
of a rat,
a stag beetle's pincers,
and the head of a bat,
Nextly, into the mixture,
add an eye from a doe,
the beak of a raven,
and the blood
can hear 'em talk they be lying like carpets
You could see my drip, this designer off the market
You see i got big bands, had to run it up tho
Praying
(Pouncing)
(Let an old pro show you how it's done)
Oh, the buffalo have got a beef
(Stay low) about this season's grass
(To the ground) warthogs have
(Pouncing)
(Let an old pro show you how it's done)
Oh, the buffalo have got a beef
(Stay low) about this season's grass
(To the ground) warthogs have
what's up with him? (Uh-huh)
Niggas robbed him in Buffalo and he got beat up again (uh-huh)
He be out here lookin' like a cold-blooded sucker (damn)
I
guardian angel harpless
And the rest to sweep the mess under the carpet (under the carpet)
I drag a yellow taxi meter behind every measure
And charge
in the can like a soda pop
Walk down the carpet they Dahmer the photo op
He can't be serious shit was a silly drop
She throw it back and I smack like I
see Iu0027m your superstar,
Baby you can call me Paul McCartney-McCartney,
See Iu0027ll be your legend just like Iu0027m the Beetles, the Beetles
I'm still floatin' like a magic carpet
She stop me for a selfie, I just want the knowledge
Expressin' what you think'll send your kids to college
Beetles
Under my carpet
Under my feet
They come out in the heat
County
Miami 305, big Tigger, salute
I know you did it last year
But this one is another one
We keep it hype, never calm
Green carpet flow at the BET hip
On the morning report
What are you doing, son?
Pouncing...
Ah. Let an old pro show you how it's done
The buffalo have got a beef(Stay low)
Warthogs have been
face I rap in tales, it's that real
Camouflage tuxedo
Head from Puerto Rico like take
Two kilos to Toledo in a '74 Beetle
I'd rather buy for crack
a buffalo proof
I've got your number in my memory
Because I'm old and I'm living in an analog past
Long before all the payphones were empty
Now their shells
started using my senses
The butterflies and beetles spoke to me
Then I heard those seventeen year cicadas
Their resurrection sonnet high in the trees
I
phone, I'm doing great
I'm just stacking my bars like a charger You wasn't with me in the field with the farmers
Start growing gas on my buffalo's taller
In the parking lot where I waited alone
A white bird sat sleeping on the broken pay phone
And up came a black beetle dragging off a green fly
Seat the vacant hybrids
Mother fuck that sacred virus squirming
Through the hi jinks
Bounce to the scarlet carpet
Bomb boombox noise activators
Sat with
distort
On the morning report
What are you doing, son?
Pouncing
Ah, let an old pro show you how it's done
The buffalo have got a beef (stay
your checks, and flush money down the toilet bowl
Look at the frog, he's gone too down the commode
War paint on the carpet, your fur was my target
Give
gimme the head like it's Harvard
I shoot that Nigga the blood ona carpet
22 Tech nigga we go retarted
Foreign yea it got the muffler
She like my bills
report
What are you doing, son?
Pouncing
Let and old pro show you how it's done
The buffalo have got a beef
About this season's grass Stay low
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