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plasthic slash & rapsom' - midnight snack كلمات الأغنية

[verse]
“loves s_x, he’s vain” says his sh_ll or exterior
but subject to change like the bell for next period
art critics say his joints arthritic and lacks fluidity
but he’s god with a capital g, lacks humility
quick to bury the hatchet, quicker to dig up the grave
mouth on his ratchet bigger than the d_ck of a slave
gives her no secrets, don’t mean that vic of a babe
malingering magician mastering the tricks of the trade
huh! he got metaphors in copious amounts
flip it to cash, be better off than obo’s accounts
both euros and pounds, to think he used to floss in refectories
please, p_ssy people play possum perfectly
best rhymer alive, nothing frivolous said
will never meet his doom ‘cause king geedorah’s dead
yeah! knowledge in every line, even the choruses
got the brightest eggheads scrambling for thesauruses
been writing weaker raps since his dog died
his side piece loves to get piggybacked and be hogtied
hair done in a bun, babe chasing a pie in the sky
scare some in the slum, they praying and crying he die
microphone, his instrument for radiesthesia
might have blown if eastwood went and married leticia
rascals aim for cash and fame, keys are on sale
moves into the astral plane, leaves a contrail
emoluments quite high, an opulent lifestyle
crase guy, says hi when opponents drive_by
squeezing ak’s, truth hurts, men want him now to lie
his life on the line, friends hung him out to dry
soldiers claim to fame, spray gats till they flinch and halt
goes against the grain, take that with a pinch of salt
inching on till he clinch results in rarefied air
abraham must be igbo, they sacrifice heirs (what?)
f_ck me, he just wanna eat like gluttony
the fool at forty who became streetwise suddenly
spitting image of his alter ego, doppelgänger
hit the village just to bother people, slow to anger
no local banger? say no to banter
’cause he the hopeful answer to the global cancer, social dancer
shuttered with magnification, something in his throat
what are the ramifications of calling him the goat?
young busta rhymes, d_mn! his flow is startling
non_plussed and fine, man! these hoes be marveling
son buss a nine then his foes be babbling
don’t cross the line when ye throw the javelin
it’s slowly travelling, peep his demos of assonance
crepuscular nature of his memos is sacrosanct
absonant to modernism, mavericks cheer avarice
born to save lives, he ain’t a doctor, he a spagyrist

- plasthic slash rapsom

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