Lyrics:
Junk you pop gets dropped, stop the madness
My style is wild, my son, my child, selective
Hooks are tough, written rough and effective
I tangle ya,
the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec
Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear
It could be the napalm, droppin' non stop bombs,
Armed like vietnam, dominatin' like King Kong.
Lyrical madness, step up, take up, and start
temperament
Got a blessing of making the Benjamins
Swipe my style, that's a habit
Hype die down, stop the madness
I'd hide out in the back end
But it's my time
Unquotable sociable thirty-eight caliber style swayin
Open your mind to visualize what I'm sayin
The products of the streets don't be playin
It's a bloody
pound
See a lie
Better style
Floating in these town
It smells green when I walk around
Less fuck more brain
Man I'm so insane
Looking at these madness
to break the glass ceiling - Suspiria style
But the shard in they head ain't the glass you was lead to believe
Only trick up their sleeve is a sick drug
the glass ceiling - Suspiria style
But the shard in they head ain't the glass you was lead to believe
Only trick up their sleeve is a sick drug indeed
They
great
Life is great
Forget that
All that stupid stuff
You really believe any of that fluff
Simple minded
Gullible by the way we find it
The way we
Junk you pop gets dropped, stop the madness
My style is wild, my son, my child, selective
Hooks are tough, written rough and effective
I tangle ya,
phranchise
Winnin' by a landslide and you know you can't hide
Mouth watering musical madness
More bomb than Bombay in glad bags
Get mesmerized, spellbound
spies
Right Under Your Eyes
The King was overtaken by madness
His brain went soft as calabasas
He soon was hated by all the masses
Got overthrown by
[Intro: Icey Rock Craven]
Born in the basement of Bizzle*
Brought to life by Icey Rock and Tech N9ne
The many faces of madness
I bring to you,
flamed rocks
Year after year up in the same spot
Total madness synergy in city streets
Battle many fleets as they walk by the gates of the darkside
Black
spitting this hot shit, radioactive rap flows
All the fire that we spit make these niggas imagine dragons
I'm a monster with black madness, the Black
to me in my dreams
Is she taken, is she taken? Is she mine, is she mine?
Don't got, don't care, don't have two ish to give
Let me take you by the hand
to me in my dreams
Is she taken? (Is she taken?) Is she mine? (Is she mine?)
Don't got time don't care, don't have two shits to give
Let me take you by
It's not a place, it's a yearning
It's not a race, it's a journey
It's not an act, it's attraction
It's not a style, it's an action
It's
Aire! Aesop Rock!
I boomerang styles 'round the
Y'all sweating beads praying someday
You'll be the magnet
Poor pad of black magic and mass havoc
Where
Kwaku
I was getting busy in Cancun
I was getting busy with my hands full
and now I got my baby she a bad boo
I put shit by the wayside baby girl slim
are fresh
'Cos you're a fish and I'm a water sign
My laid-back pimp walk is linear by design
Gold fronts soul I shotee now watch you shine
Me and C-Know
like, "Damn, this piece of music is genius"
And he said
"Well, like I said, it's this left-handed thing in the style of Bill Evans"
I said, "But Donny
It's not a place, it's a yearning
It's not a race, it's a journey
It's not an act, it's attraction
It's not a style, it's an action
It's a dream for
ammunition
Yo assume the position
As you reach for the skies, wave hands side to side
New Zealand hiphop with the hint of Nesian Style
Represent your side coz
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