Trying to Hard to be a Bitch
Breakin it off, one step at a time, seven dollars worth of dimes is gunna buy me my kind
of potion, the lotion goin on the brain to silk up the gears, the red and white on my cain's
and its been a long time comin, my eruption on the mic, i spike your mental fluids with corruptive delusions
of movin, to this street beat melody, hellody from the dark den lair pay her five bucks to fuck with my what?
naw thats not what im trying to cut on this track, wack stories a matter a fact not so real so dont deal it with the ear
peer into this hells dome where i roam lookin for more treasures to embellish this mellody's crown of thorns
i was born with the sole goal to grow my micrphone skills honed and mow down fashion feuds with tight elastic rap spandex
beat decks erected on plastic poles cant hold the massive load of rhythm gism im forcin in em
get out the crains stainless steal beams cemented over and lined with indestructible materials cuz i fear you'll need to buy some time
for my rhyme time perfection, on wheels
peel in half emcees like i crack red seas wide open croakin like froggy frog but not posin
rudimentary from the start not the finish so i begin where you end throwin darts that dont bend
I cram knowledge to abolish slavery of the mind the kind evoking the childs eye from the light
despite moving enlightened groovyness we cover less demographic their's nothing new to this
so i try my best to bless the mathematic eratic finesse, i guess?
naw you guess unless im rockin the boat too soft not knockin off the guests
so now im lockin up those cotton pillows you rest your heads on when you write the con artist's best
lines, tryin too hard to be a bitch.
yah that ending line was just cuz i got tired n lazyy......
of potion, the lotion goin on the brain to silk up the gears, the red and white on my cain's
and its been a long time comin, my eruption on the mic, i spike your mental fluids with corruptive delusions
of movin, to this street beat melody, hellody from the dark den lair pay her five bucks to fuck with my what?
naw thats not what im trying to cut on this track, wack stories a matter a fact not so real so dont deal it with the ear
peer into this hells dome where i roam lookin for more treasures to embellish this mellody's crown of thorns
i was born with the sole goal to grow my micrphone skills honed and mow down fashion feuds with tight elastic rap spandex
beat decks erected on plastic poles cant hold the massive load of rhythm gism im forcin in em
get out the crains stainless steal beams cemented over and lined with indestructible materials cuz i fear you'll need to buy some time
for my rhyme time perfection, on wheels
peel in half emcees like i crack red seas wide open croakin like froggy frog but not posin
rudimentary from the start not the finish so i begin where you end throwin darts that dont bend
I cram knowledge to abolish slavery of the mind the kind evoking the childs eye from the light
despite moving enlightened groovyness we cover less demographic their's nothing new to this
so i try my best to bless the mathematic eratic finesse, i guess?
naw you guess unless im rockin the boat too soft not knockin off the guests
so now im lockin up those cotton pillows you rest your heads on when you write the con artist's best
lines, tryin too hard to be a bitch.
yah that ending line was just cuz i got tired n lazyy......