Delorean

El-PEl-P 

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El-P

El-P (originally known as El Producto, born Jaime Meline, March 2, 1975) is an American hip hop artist and entrepreneur from Brooklyn, New York City. Originally a member of Company Flow, El-P has been a major driving force in alternative hip hop for over a decade. He is the co-founder, owner and CEO of the Definitive Jux record label. El-P is also a member of the Weathermen and art collective Cardboard City. more »

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I slash monikers backwards
Haggle proof snaggletooth fabulous 5 freddy
Krueger finger discount bliss lou retton dismount
Spin out of control to doctor basics
Bladed secada wings offer awkward facelift
Leak laser to fade shit

I splash commoner fragments, rattle crews, cattle lose
Fabulous four finger ringer, backflip, discount mechanism
Sex distortion, terror gorn from old favorate phasing
Famous danger lacing agent, baby

Aim high, when a flying monkey swoops down over
Dorothy sound system
To capture the bitches and toto too systems
Y'all pimps front on some indestructible daytrip with the
Lifespan of a box playing public enemy in Sal's famous
Feel dystopia vs. Elysium, time ticks and the hand keeps feeding them
A billion try to bark revolution when only knee deep in the medium
Duck you lucked out, there's 1 out of every 99 fans on the same route
Another colossal blunder
Born as heir to thom inside of spirit, better scatter for your teepee
For every American sleepy teen parked in TV, friendly apartments
Carving this creepy nations of p.t. barnums
Where you at? I'm right the f*ck here right now
Where you at? I'm getting the f*ck down tonight
Where you at? I'm a spread the f*ck out something precious
Gavels for the guilty rattlesnake bait for the snitches
Cackles for the silky shallow lake wades for the midgets
Badges for the filthy that'll make hate seem less vicious
Shackles for the filthy battle break plates for your interests
I'm a strap your dignity down and see what that bitch could bench press
Relentless, archon player, after dark parking lot cipher slayer, roll'em
Catch snake eyes in 3 dimensions for the artificial martyr
Freeze dried poltergeist just add water
Excuse me sir do you know how fast you were going? f*ck no
What's that in the back seat? that's a stolen can of rusto
Who's that riding shotgun? that's my homie El-Producto
Peddle to the floorboard delorean be gone, peace

These faggots hit like teddy bears thrown agains wooden doors
By a misunderstood teenage girl in a moment of self importance
Call it off beat, jagged, ragged, form the pattern
The mere thought of sounding like those who you revere fills me with sadness
I'm a burner tone and outline bricks with shifty throw up
Laminated for my friends who had to croak before I grew up
Among the wildly uninhabitable traffic of bad bliss
Where the tainted droids of dummy noise cancer gets unhinged
See me, kabuki theatre leader, disease clips
Tryna handle contrabant of an applause meter tint, bad scrimmages
Played with collectable bitch mc cooper mounted miniatures
Retard flow bee holder business, the "you don't show me shit" list
Megaplex is stress caress, all the time apacoloid, bite bleak void
Small world big nose, sonce you're in the closet
Anyway see if you can walk to Narnia skippy, save the earthy wisdom
I'm immersed in millennial bad touch funk may day man with 808 trunk
Ghostface tape bump, tooly clutched, Tony Robbins mantra mouth escape monk
Mega-magnetic MRI fingers scanning woman for breast lumps, c'mon chunk
Your not a fuckin' goonie, most of these advanced rappers grew up in the forest
I'm the walrus, sitting on my cornflake float out to the chorus
Sarcasm isn't advanced, it's the inexpirienced mans preference
Criticism isn't smart, it's for the artfully dejected
Hardly holds the fluid, partly 212 crew, 718 create burner movement
Hybrid unfallable, funkadelic truancy smothered
Fell into the meat grinder like classic Hustler cover
The silky legged ecto-thugs run and hug each other
For pilferers of sanctimony coldly pillow smother
1st is the originator (me), 2nd is the influence (you)
3rd is the innovator (me), 4th is the institution (my crew)
5th is perpetuity it lives throught the Delusion
Before I hop in the Delorean I shit on Mr.Fusion

Great Scott, Doc
We need to go back in time to when motherfuckers could rock
88 miles per hour, bring it back to the block and get (Mc Fly)
Peel the f*ck out before the lightning hit the clock

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