Busta was right ‘cause everything remained raw
Hindsight’s a divine right
They should call it L’apostrophe
I won’t pray to the sky and take days off I won’t play golf.
Fisticuffs didn’t get dissed enough But Mr.
Your brain boost is my main use
We gotta listen to criticism– a slap on the wrist isn’t a bluff
Lovers stand at the entrance, arms folded
“Decline to indict,” a new euphemism taken to filthy heights
Let go danger Echo chamber.
My soul waves from the graves of the Choctaw, they always call The old phase wanna run toward baseball
I like to hang around people with the same flaws in a roller coaster made out of chainsaws
I saw a light shine, it was a beacon from the Keystone Pipeline
Like “organic evaporated cane juice.”
So then I got lost or maybe dropped off
I’m the nicest since Dionysius
Double up on math and gym to graduate sooner
Neat! I spark offense against the dark arts’ heat.
With each heartbeat repeated and fart meat excreted
There’s perfect settings all around
The new brains weren’t certain yesterday is gone cuz the time that we were slaves isn’t way off
Five fingers divided can’t even high five
Hey ya, got you all in check like a small insect
It’s the capital of apple sauce and white wine
So stay untrue to yourself and think your forethought through
Ayurvedic medicine, the flyer way to better skin Would it be blasphemy to ask you to shake that assphemy?
I won’t sway to the side like my uncle that died of AIDS from putting needles in his veins raw
How wrong can we say stuff and still be right?
Tightropes pulled together make for solid ground
Euphemism infuse a schism in truth and wisdom
A veteran in rhetoric can pass a strange law
They had no idea Steatopygia.
I wish someone had told me that before I was a Junior
“Declined to indict” reminds me I’m “white.”
There’s always room for humility
I got inhuman skills for you still to see
Acknowledge we’re all brainwashed and you’re not you
I won’t wait to decide
[Verse 2: Open Mike Eagle]
It’s all a haze in the days since it popped off
Come Michael play in the milky night
Five fingers together can keep them all alive
The second well-paid, all of a sudden self-made
[Verse 3: MC Paul Barman]
[Verse 1: MC Paul Barman]