ALL BETS OFF (Bonus Track) (Remix)

Mace Around The World


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Stoke the fire, grow it til it's higher
Emcees say they're nice
I say spoken like a true liar
The situations dire, awoken in the moment
They get thrown into the fryer
Because I'm dead pan dumb

Let me rap for a few seconds
Give you some new presence
Truth in the booth plus some new lessons
The true essence of putting words together
With a beat, bringing heat to defeat
Any crews stepping, and I'm cool hedging
My bets, of course I will pick the right horse
The rest are just Mules, fledglings
Do not care what these dudes selling
All I know is that these goofs smelling unpleasant
They dumb peasants, glued to the screens in hands
In fact it's too depressing, only a few repping
The prose on paper caper heist elevator
To the top where the vapour
Makes me feel like Darth Vader
These aren't Star Wars but I got my light saber
In the form of a pen and a pencil
Doesn't matter the instrumental, you get sliced
And Mauled like the devil from Episode 1
Verbal guns firing on all cylinders
Hemi with the Semi out the window
Shimmy Shimmy Shimmy Shimmy Y'all
Gimme Gimme Gimme all your loot
Gimme the loot, Gimme the loot
You licking the boots, saying gimme the boot
I don't care where you stand
But you better not call the cops
Because they're killing us, we gotta demand
Reprimanding, they're standing, police state
Military industrial complex, Stockholm syndrome
In your home with the bomb vests
Big brother Tech, looking over your, digital shoulder
To discover your sober thoughts
So they develop their plots to increase the lot
Increase the Amazon, until we're devastated
Wandering lost, basically bots
Essentially parts of the consumer base to line the pock
Kets but I gotta rock it constant through the space and time
Blow your mind, find designs of words sublime
Until the final line is spoken I'm going top speed
Mopping up the floor, mocking these rap hordes
Thinking that they scoring like Gordie Howe
Elbows flying, crosscheck applying
Eye to the top of the heap, yeah
You know that I'm wiling
Like Coyote, Elmer Fud with the Gun Gun
I stun you, like Spock, grab your neck, make it bop
Gonna need a mop, cuz I'm wiping up the floor
With these dummies, I'm cleaning up
All Bets Off, class is in session, I got a Kalashnikov
I'm a Professor of words, now run for your Verbs
I get absurd with every verse

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Written by: tanner macey

Lyrics © DistroKid

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    ALL BETS OFF (Bonus Track) (Remix)

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