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(feat. Vast Aire) |
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[Vast Aire] |
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What the deal Nasa? Touching yourself |
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Uh, 1-2, what |
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Def Jukies, stabbing bitches in the nookie like, what |
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Don't make me bite ya face (come on) |
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'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste |
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It's more of a psychological thing |
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My heart pace'll never change |
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But your cabbage'll get rearranged |
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Don't make me bite ya face (your face) |
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'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste (the taste) |
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It's more of a psychological thing |
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My heart pace'll never change |
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But your cabbage'll get rearranged |
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And I don't even pack no gat |
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I'd rather run up on you and your crew with a Great Adventure bat |
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(oh my God) |
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And when the deed's done it goes up the sleeve |
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And when the one time comes I'll be in the breeze |
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You may be different, but you a poetic front |
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The difference between us is that we say what we want (suckers) |
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Especially after we light the blunt |
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Some of us like to pull cards, I pull stunts |
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I broke up with my ex on some bachelor shit (why?) |
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Now I'm killin two birds with the same dick |
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And isn't it ironic? Don't ya think? |
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The same cat that left the mic smokin, left the man of steel's |
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Back broken |
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Chillin with Lois Lane, and she's open |
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Cause I could suck a cookie out a pussy when it's soaking |
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[El-P] |
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Chick bit my head off, but the ass was magic |
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Should've seen the tattoo on her back of a praying mantis |
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Clutched my chest like Fred Sanford |
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And splashed her crack on some man shit |
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Now baby girl's amped, trying to walk on both hands backwards |
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Moaning fantastic damage with her grill sunk in the mattress |
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(that's my language) |
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Rode at insane angles, all tangled up and damaged |
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Star spangled mangler fuckbot add a money shot |
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Hit her in the shitter i'm in it with, K-Y liquid and |
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Double kitchen gloves, love's lovin it |
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Comfortable naked and takes it like a patriot |
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I'm wearin a dookie rope and some oven mitts! |
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Suck clits like Vast Aire Vs. mother reminder |
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And that's my b-boy alpha numeric vagina diner amalgam |
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Chick screamed so loud I could hear it on my last album! |
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(on info kill) |
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And smell her in the shower |
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While we fucked to Chill Rob G's version of 'I've got the Power' |
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It's getting kinda hectic |
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The house pets seem alert and confused, |
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And the neighbors leaving messages |
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Get on your stomach and I'll plug you in all your entrances |
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And one exit |
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Whispering quotes from The Tempest |
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Dr. Hell No, (oh yes I did) |
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With a surgical scrub on a baby arm inserted from fist to elbow |
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I drank her bath water in a shot glass |
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Then ran my tongue up the crack of her ass |
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Til our future children hatched |
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The mushrooms had me seeing some sort of deep organic math |
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On some primal altered state sex, I felt connected to the past |
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Collapse, nasty, wet, wept into her neck |
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Suckling on her swollen nipples |
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Then I drifted into R.E.M. |
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Where I dreamt of little bouncing cherubs |
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With clit rings and sexy woodnips |
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And crotchless liederhosen begging to get bent |
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[Vast Aire] |
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Don't make me bite ya face |
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'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste |
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It's more of a psychological thing |
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My heart pace'll never change |
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But your cabbage'll get rearranged |
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Don't make me bite ya face (your face) |
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'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste (the taste) |
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It's more of a psychological thing |
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My heart pace'll never change (suckerrrrrrs) |
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But your cabbage'll get rearranged |
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I usually, bust raps for fun |
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And if six was nine, I'd probably bust a machine gun (he's got a gun!) |
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Niggas hate me |
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Cause I scribbled the Cold Vein, ice grilled Medusa and I'm stone free |
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Well actually I was purple hazed, chew on the lasers |
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Froze in a Hendrix maze |
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Look at these sloppy cats |
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With they copied raps |
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Our shit is too hard to study |
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Ox is brilliant, our ying is colorful, but our yang is muddy |
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And if you ever thought you had one up on me, that had to be a projection |
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From R2D2 |
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Cause I am not see through |
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I'm more like, you cross the line and I'll see you |
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In intensive... |
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You think I care if your titties are sensitive? |
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Niggas beware! |
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Don't make me bite ya face (face) |
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'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste (the taste) |
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It's more of a psychological thing |
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My heart pace'll never change |
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But your cabbage'll get rearranged |
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Rearranged, ranged, ranged ranged |
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Rearranged, ranged ranged ranged |
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Motherfuckers look strange |
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Yeah.. Cannibal O, will, handle you slow |
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What, Def Jux |
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[El-P] |
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Once again |
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File that in your "This must be underground!" Category |
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Hey, why don't you write a review, of my ass? |
