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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Ilajide] Hop in the booth then poof, I turn into Dwight Shrute A white dude with a twenty-five step plan to blow two cubicles from the air chute, to get loose Watching me break them ankles on the court like (Get your bitch ass up) Or I'm stepping over you, huh or I'm stepping on you with two pumps 'bout to jump and use the platform Catapult myself into a storm with nothing else on but my bare arms Dodge a swarm with no protection on I think they call it ninety-seven point from now on But anywizzy, time to get busy, I gets grizzly as free falling to the tallest building in Mejico city Land on the edge with my two pinkies and shimmy shimmy down (diggie down) We be them cynically perverted clowns with a fetish for sending bitch rappers out to drown from the flow of the sound No O'neill life vests or floatie rounds, so how you like me now
[Verse 2: E-Fav] Handle the microphone on some little light of mine shit, peeping the Jedi mind trick This rap shit'll spark like a lighter do in the dark, orange amber ended tip flick My ash upon the asphalt and halt a hater right there Homie this three dimensional visual we inhabits not even scratching the depths of this rabbit hole, what up Alice? My damage to wax is reaction to atoms splitting, we crumble the building, chasing pussy niggas out they villages Pardon the dribble drippage, dog we off another bottle we ain't worried about tomorrow That nigga bender a fucking problem, model after model Pluck they ass right out the garden and pardon my assy grabby That's just my pursuit of happiness
[Verse 3: Noveliss] How you gon' tell me I ain't out of my gourd My style came from reading the Anarchist Cookbook with a chef's hat on And an apron to keep grenades in, explode my way to greatness on some Michael Bay shit To your playlist, while you analyze the strength of my game and hate on it like Skip Bayless Tell a itch-bay, when I it-spay it's cold as the Lin Kuei The Sub-Zero linguistics, Shang Tsung from an alternate dimension Giving the soul back to the rap but I'm still killing, abusing They don't televise revolution so we settle for headphones and soothing the worlds acoustics too creative for 9 to 5's Graduated college they had me using a mop, lines sharper than Sweeney Todd's So let me give you a shape up, the Razor's Edge rhymes like Scott Hall in his prime, flicking tooth picks in your eyes nigga
[Verse 4: L.A.Z] Every night I’d dream I never close my eyes I don’t sleep a lot Folgers flows heating up your coffee pots Hour power naps is unorthodox crack your fucking necks to the beat Vertebrates will nod passionately feel passion personified Potential at its pinnacle I hear vocals peaking Sneaking glimpses of the lyrical that all seeing I'm feeling like ten Tom peeping cities on our back, I'm bout to Chiaotzu (Boom) Kamikaze season spirit bomb booth, I got the jihadist soul, with faith I'mma blow too I tell 'em check it y'all, we came to wreck a record y'all Rapping wrecking ball, I bang your mic soon as you hit record Now, now, so how you like me now, now? How you like me now, how you like me now, now?
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