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Pen Pals
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R. Crumb
HOOK Stackin rhymes Y'all can peep the catalogue Maker's Mark, Texas Hold Em with the tarot cards Kick a fly verse Then these bastards gone Thick women n mics is what I'm smashin on
Cynic The Apache: Terabyte to the back of the head stashin files After a while, you guaranteed to say these crackers wild In the spots where the OG's scratchin vinyl Crushin concrete, crackin tiles My head's wrapped with wires
Rapswell: We on the track by Squires, flatten your tires Me n Cynic be the reason that these rappers retired Hang it up, we'd had enough of hearing that you slangin drugs The world's fucked, it ain't wrong if you blamin us
Cynic: Playin the cut in the corner poppin a molly cap Rockin a Stalin 'stache Old school, Hollis Ave Told you, we never droppin stacks on gold jewels Royalty raisin their glasses up to make a toast to
Rapswell: My whole crew feisty like a young Pacino Yo we runnin the casino, soon to blow like Gus Fring tho Deeper than the voice of Bun B goes, amigos Drinkin vino with some guidos screamin out 'Rumino!!!'
HOOK
Cynic: Tired of these kids flashin average bars Carrying cannons like they been havin Samus' arm Once the barrier's crossed, guaranteed they sportin soiled chinos Tryna find my fortune, vacation up in resorts, casinos Maybe a villa, makin a killin droppin dominos With a mafiosa out on the Almafi coast Fuck rockin a sloppy flow, we bonifed Real Rap Raw 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 So that mask you wearin, peel that off Who you foolin, sippin on grapes, publishing music Need the best never settle for less, no substitutions
Rapswell: Kinetically, I approach the mic with a pedigree Always on a quest to be a better MC Sittin in the park on some Motown type doo wop Words spark like an oowop, you do not Jam with the technique, nasty with the etiquette Stay grimy like a third world settlement Represent
HOOK
Cynic: Dodging bullets, breakin limbs Like I been trainin in the Matrix with the Agent Smith Fuck a DVD, I rock a laser disc Spittin heinous shit that makes you sick You better take it with a grain of salt We watch your brain dissolve
Rapswell: Paint a portrait, you poor kids should forfeit Get off it, you on some baby dick sorta soft shit Poppin pills like Morpheus I'm awfully sick Thinkin dark thoughts, go into a coffin to spit I'm an ill guy, drop science like Bill Nye Spittin like I'm a llama til these muthafuckas realize It feels nice to kick mathematics Kicked most of my bad habits except I'm still a rap addict Quit spittin, and in six minutes
Cynic: Yo we back at it Spasmadic up on the stage, they tell us relax Get slap happy We gainin capital off these tracks Addicted to the mics, we put em down but then we relapse
HOOK
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