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about
Prod. Mad Money
lyrics
came of age in a space in the dirt
trained to be caged
in a world of hurt
had Graves on my mind
since I raised from the birth
broke out when I smoked out
vapors of cures
in a cloud of amazement
arranging the verse
til my pen got a purpose
to murder with words
swerving in a hearse
burst shocks on the curb
diz'll knock you spinnin dizzy
Man, what are y'all worth, man?
man fuck em if
they never wanna spit
a fact too
I spit it free cuz
fuck a fee
your pay is past due
man I'm puffing taboos
while you dumping mad drool
you get blue (blew) ass out
like fucking baboon
its a cannibal linguistic
animal ballistic
phantom in your crib shit
This is not a figment
levitate your fate
like your messing with a mystic
this that big blast mad apocalyptic
what you wanna make fake
fuckers in the industry
rap about bank change
I'm about change ain't
nothing that I put up in my
work that I ain't think
vein vacation
you drain like a sink, think.
complex like the base of the matter
I step, youre rung
in the frame like a ladder
complicated in composition
no comparison carries
a conveluted computation
but as comic as Carrey
but on the contrary
yo i mean im scary as Carrie
I carry carols of carrion
to your parish's charities
a demon deeper
than jeepers creepers
im leaking freaking
liters of leeches
up out the theater features
my mad science applied
I'm like the flame beneath the beakers
bunson burning up the bottom
I bottle the non believers
the taste
remains uncommon
it's hard to swallow
like deep hurt
your cheap words
ain't nothing to one that's hunger was never for peak worth...
This sequel to the classic instills a murderous funk that stays with you. The finest on the Strange Famous roster, in my opinion, this titan of lyricism puts it down hard song for song. DIZMA