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We getting' ready, to start the set |
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It's clockwork, got work, put it in like doctors with awkwardness |
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Mopped your whole flock up, and walked toward ya |
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Scattered all up on the chalkboard, |
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Socrates self is thoughtless |
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From farmers to metropolis, |
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I get these process all twisted |
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Form mental visual optics, my job description rock wiz |
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Clock ticks, |
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I'm toxic giving oxygen to the thoughtless |
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Intoxicant knocking the planet off it's axis, like oxes chappin' |
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Boxing compin up out though, peepin' it loose |
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Seeped in to you, begin' in to the outro |
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MC is what |
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I be about though |
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The freshest widow without though |
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I can outflow, any little doubt |
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Your little mouth throw out so, take it out though |
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So I'm a gardener, |
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I'm a chef eatin' all you carnivores |
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I'm an ancient |
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Zen master philosophic thought |
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Comin' like the art of war, handyman with lyrical hardware |
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And my house ain't made a ginger |
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But its made of an array of pages that'll slay ya like a |
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NinjaUnemployed, no |
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I got work, and my job description |
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A rap technician |
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From sun up to sun down |
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And it's clockwork |
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Can you understand? |
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Every beat be made with sucker |
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DJ's plus scissors and tape |
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Can you understand? |
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Lyrics that |
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I write will put you in sound out of sight |
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Can you understand? |
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Master of scratching yes is he the one slippin' |
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Or is he the real captain? |
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Can you understand? |
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The way we rock keep runnin' for a record around the block |
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Grabbin' the mic and unravelin' with, the force of a javelin hit |
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Travelin' gift of gab and |
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I'm it, MC's are havin' a fit |
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A man and a myth with a hat of magical tricks stored in my cabina net |
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Jamming and rippin' the average listener cramming in it like a sandwich |
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A bit at a time |
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This critical rhyming individual will shine your pitiful kind |
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It's little so little that |
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I will be little your mind |
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Nigero tearin' yo ego and spiritual flows, divine imperial |
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Signed and delivered, so take time rewind and give it all |
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Your undivided attention, divide is in division |
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Subtraction in addition, see |
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I'm like a mathematician |
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Egyptologist wisdom |
|
Hip hop holy man submerging you all in my baptism |
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Security guard of the rap prison, slap rhythms into newborns |
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And birth rap ism into blunts from sacks hittin' |
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Get 'em off and make fat dividends, now that's livin' |
|
See I got work, and my job description |
|
A rap technician |
|
From sun up to sun down |
|
And it's clockwork |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Every beat be made with sucker |
|
DJ's plus scissors and tape |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Lyrics that |
|
I write will put you in sound out of sight |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Master of scratching yes is he the one slippin' |
|
Or is he the real captain? |
|
Can you understand? |
|
The way we rock keep runnin' for a record around the block |
|
One two, one, two |
|
This is my mic, my rhyme, my beat and my crowd |
|
Do I have to give up my signature? |
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To get ya to figure it out |
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I'm walking the path that |
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Allah had planted |
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Or jah, whoever you give your shout to |
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If your doubts rip you out your physical watch your spiritual drift up out |
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Floatin' up on your way to infinity, kiss the clouds |
|
Just about, when you get to the point where the alien ships are out |
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Tell 'em I sent you to help ya and give ya directions |
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Wherever you're going so that you don't miss the route |
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See, I send you traveling far, unadulterated cleverness |
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And you'll never catch a flaw, |
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I'm a hip hop astrologist |
|
And my raps a shooting star, |
|
I'm a bartender all into your mental |
|
Sittin' at the bar ventures force injure |
|
More injure pretenders the inventor of plenty other dullage |
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Your loving buzzin' at your door like |
|
Jehovah Witnesses is in the fall |
|
If I was your landlord you wouldn't need to pay the rent at all |
|
Just give me applause whenever |
|
I floss that'll be the only cost |
|
See my occupation |
|
A rap technician |
|
From sun up to sun down |
|
And it's clockwork and it don't stop |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Every beat be made with sucker |
|
DJ's plus scissors and tape |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Lyrics that |
|
I write will put you in sound out of sight |
|
Can you understand? |
|
Master of scratching yes is he the one slippin' |
|
Or is he the real captain? |
|
Can you understand? |
|
The way we rock keep runnin' for a record around the block |
