Lyrics:
in twenty-five lines
On your mindset
Infra-skunk-structure
The editor bedraggled, stumbled
Some were hurt, some dazed
With film crew, their
I remember when we was both out on the boulevard
Talkin' revolution and singin' the blues
Nowadays it's letters to the editor and cheatin' on our
Dear Mr. Editor, wontcha please
Print my story in your magazine?
Warn all the lovers how a cheating heart
Can only end up in misery
I was
The hard work paid off, and luck finally found me
So call every publication, Billboard and the editor
and tell em Mack's being signed by dude workin
to suit ya
The author, the writer and the editor
Sucka rappers sprayin' no ads
At this competitor
Not knockin' no knocks, jockin' no jocks
Sayin' precious
the writer of this,
I'm the printer of that,
What you gonna do next?
How you gonna top that?
Distributor of this,
Editor of that,
What you gonna do next?
competitors
And that shit get fly like a pelican
I'm in LA, I want me some editors
Don't step on this landmine
I'm geeked out my mind, I'm not mankind
But
the snow thaw
Went from paper boy to editor
From throwing Ars Poetica with the arms of Federer
On the porches and steps to the farm houses of settlers
gluttony, stages of mass malignancy
Effort to make conception, generation in atrophy
Glam life in debt, scam life in editors
Byproducts of neglect children
currency
That everybody needs
Somebodies delivery lulls you to sleep
The man behind the weather map
The editor in chief
They control two worlds
Power
Little lover sittin' in the corner with a former member of the jets
He would write a letter to the editor about the little holes in her dress
She
currency
That everybody needs
Somebodies delivery lulls you to sleep
The man behind the weather map
The editor in chief
They control two worlds
Power
in twenty-five lines
On your mindset
Infra-skunk-structure
The editor bedraggled, stumbled
Some were hurt, some dazed
With film crew, their
Getting stressed by these hotties is regular
I got a magazine to press to your body like editors
Test me somebody I'm begging ya
I got the Gatling gun
the skies, the window the nebular
(Brrd) i’m gettin’ plays on the cellular
These niggas bitches
Run strings like editors
Hop in the drop and go nuts (Skrt)
better hit my cellular (bitch, brrt)
I can't fall in love with no IG ho 'cause they all editors (slatt)
And these old rap niggas, they all predators
editor
Like I took credit
Call that jagged edges
Have you heard an Arabian
Flex like he work in a gymnasium
Do acts like I was an alien
And my bars is hard
in twenty-five lines
On your mindset
Infra-skunk-structure
The editor bedraggled, stumbled
Some were hurt, some dazed
With film crew, their
the rapper and chief, the editor etcetera
The miggity mad dred night predator
'Cause all the time, niggas be frontin' in their rhymes
Claimin' to represent
funky fresh particle always have the groove
You're jealous over me because you're not a competitor
You're just a donor, I'm the rap editor
Tryin to rock
the radio but you ain't crazy, yo
I'm on the regular, slang competitor
I shock journalists, slap magazine editors
Watch the D.P. as he moves towards me
a competitor
Levelin', young veteran, more lines than editors
Shit, why you think we Top Dawgs? Niggas different, uh
I been that nigga since Hov was Big
editors desk
And while they have not mentioned it
She must watch roses get thrown at less
Oh, the indignity
It was just the thing for their Q4
free
Super predator, filthy AmeriKKKa
Burn the newspapers and the editors
My dead presidents ain't dead enough
Blew a zip to the head, still ain't
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