Lyrics:
the mass that
Hackensack, highway to holly for this cashmere
Satin pro, got the somali, rolls on my mind
In France I dance by the moon
Sailin' from
She's addictied a dick did that to her
Ion think I'm ready for this did that to her
Fuck love let's get rich did that to her
No connections get lit
some a fire M1
Say, what a bam bam, bam mass a God land
Say, young gal have plane
Sweet wine and a man
In a di gunman connection
Cah let mi tell you
In
tried"
I don't wanna be a leader
I just need to talk
About some great connections
Me and a friend watching waterfalls
Complaints about not-perfections
lita named sunshine
The lower for lana diggy now
Rockin' his pocket flo the mass that
Hackensack, highway to holly for this cashmere
Satin pro,
for lana diggy now
Rockin' his pocket flo the mass that
Hackensack, highway to holly for this cashmere
Satin pro, got the somali, rolls on my mind
open the latch
At twenty two I trust there was a catch
But now I'm twenty-four-seven
Feeling set on the Path
And now the timber's waiting
Patiently
a transformation of society resulting in permanent restrictions
On fundamental liberties and mass surveillance
As entire sectors are sacrificed to boost the monopoly
percer à coups de mic sur le beat, yo
Pour nous et notre clique, yo
Freestyle
M.A.S.S., fuck le reste
Busta, Flex squad baby
9.3. Connection
percer à coups de mic sur le beat, yo
Pour nous et notre clique, yo
Freestyle
M.A.S.S., fuck le reste
Busta, Flex squad baby
9.3. Connection
reckless world is just illusion
All at once, there's a message from above
This restless world of mass confusion
In the name of love
There's a message
Dressed in country cloth and sitting on the floor
Warmed by antique sun amid the green timber
Held together by uncertainty, climb the Babel tower
THE BIZNESS... keep things to yourself
It's THE BIZNESS... nobody asked for help
I may be socially conscious and versatile
But without connections, it's nothing
wakin' in cold sweats, I eliminate stress to my own best ability
None of you rappers shiver me timbers
What if a fashion statement Ab makes em remember
(Come on, come on)
I'm comin' for you 'cause I adore you and
I'd like to get inside your mass production
This indecision has got me cringin'
tinsel or holiday dresses
More than trite greetings or worn out regards
Sent out in bulk in mass produced cards
Holiday spirit requires deep reflection
the loan, go check it
Route down the road for treasure
Hey fate, see life in all it's color
Vacate the mass my brother
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah):
Hey life,
sailor mean,
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain, for a boy in fiddlers green,
His tiny knotted heart, well I guess it never worked too good,
A timber
or other cutthroat multinationals who happen to have large timber holdings. It didn't sit to well with tobacco barons for obvious reasons, and it sure
want me to timber
I'm in my swimming pool, it's middle of December
Foe every motherfucka that wanna kill a vet
Make sure he see a silloutte foe his
her to the summit
And tied her to the stake
A towering mass of timber
Oil to fuel the fire
They light the spark
And watch the flames reach higher, ever
with the cleaver,
The axe,
They going timber,
I get excited to rap,
I cannot relax,
It came with a tremor,
Earthquake,
I'm boutta shake the room,
Like
one appeared above Big Ben
Martians:
ULLA !!
Journalist:
Never before in the history of the world
had such mass of human beings moved and sufferd
the winner
Yell timber until everything comes crashing down but let's remember
Inertia depletes under pressure get the gesture
I am
The professor
By any means,
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