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wildcard - chasing the dragon lyrics
[verse 1]
yo
give me the rhythm, i’ll get in the middle and spitin’ it bitter and livin’ it vivid and driven and kickin it spitin’ it bitter and wicked and made it in riddles and ridicule split into critical given the sh-t i be spitin’ it pitiful b-tches get rid of you get -n-lytical wicked and sh-t i be scribblin’ visuals give it up
minute by minute diminishing gimmicks and cynical sinners definitive affinitive remedies in it to send to the menace inventive pen is and pullin’ my pen and be springin’ the venom and given this sh-t i begin in the end and a genuine minister diminish and ten percent i be giving this sh-t i’m the wickedest sinner i’m comin’ to-
fed up with beautiful people ignite this blaze
and when it be rhythm the wickedest dragon is coming to light your way
when i be shivin’ i’m stickin’ em’ like oj
but i be that white knight that’ll be twisted to the eye type that wives obey
wickedest pain to make the skies go gray
used to be having adventures on that crystal meth i call them ice-capades
got a tongue to turn a dyk- both ways, don’t like it?
oh i’m sorry i just must have thought it was white boy day
wildcard’s the king of storms and all my flows’ll through lightning, give me the rhythm i’ll give em’ the sh-t i be spitting it bitter like old cyrus
i’ll talk a bunch of sh-t and all of my boys’ll co-sign it and i never stalked my ex’s house, okay i drove by it but look-
i was in the neighborhood and just stressed out and i feel like my whole crew is in prison call and collect now
(an inmate at, a federal prison)
yeah we know where the call’s from b-tch just hurry up and connect now
[hook]
no ones taking me alive (no)
i’m in the getaway driving to the other side (to)
find a better place (find)
getting sick and tired (getting sick and tired)
of just holding on
holding on (holding on)
x2
[verse 2]
yo
yippee-ki-yay mother f-cker phil is billy the kid, tell like poets breaking out of prison just like dillinger did, pillin’ wigs makin’ a k!llin’ off villains and drillin’ they chick too, women twisted in positions like brazilian jujitsu, s-x with these pretty b-tches from s-x in the city, kissin’ they necks and they cl-ts are drippin’ with aggressive and gritty spittin’ and infecting the city with it i’m blessed with this witty wisdom, don’t mess with this, kitties trippin’ like the exorcist spittin’ vicious and the treacherous wicked witches of the west can just like my tip with the hexes and mysticism antiseptic come rippin’ sh-t and it shreds, and these chicks are drippin, d-ck insurrection the chicks are jettin’ for they life like they in witness protection, in different directions they split and they jettin’ i’ll twist and mix up these lessons, i’m smith and i’m wesson, i’ll spit with aggression, and it’s my gift and my testament i’m as sick as it gets and don’t let me twist in your head then it’s like your trippin’ on mescaline and i be, making tracks about pain and interchange and i be, making tracks with punch-lines to entertain, and i be making tracks to mc’s that bust lame more uncomfortable than trying to f-ck in the back of this mustang (d-mn it girl), (uhh, baby you gotta… ohh), (can you spread), (i’m tryi-, what?), (put your leg over the thing a little bit?) (i, uh, i’m not that flexible), (i’m pulling my f-cking lumbar over here), (oh why couldn’t we get a hummer?)
[hook]
no ones taking me alive (no)
i’m in the getaway driving to the other side (to)
find a better place (find)
getting sick and tired (getting sick and tired)
of just holding on
holding on (holding on)
x2
[verse 3]
yo
troubles coming up the horizon leaving you stuck in a crisis, with a beat duffle bag i’m stuffing with knives, half spanish half luck of the irish, b-tch i’m cursed with alcoholism, p-ssed i’m stuck coughin’ this nitrous, like why don’t you f-cks just rush into my fist while i’m clutching this ice pick, now your bloods what i’m paint-brushin’ at night with, my ex-girl told me i’d be angry and alone, i was like f-ck you, now i’m thinking what if she’s right sh-t, imma need another motherly white chick with them double d size t-ts and em’ supple lips for guzzling my kids. tell the hussy guzzle on my d-ck, she resists and i persist d-mn near got her in a f-cking muai-thai clinch, feel like i’m another design glitch with the clutch of a vise grip leave them bludgeoned with br-ss knuckles and night sticks, still a little paranoid from all the f-ckin drugs that i did, wait you ain’t working for the government right b-tch? feeling like an underground fight pit-bull who’s running this rhyme sh-t and more nuts with every muzzle that i grip, tell these kids love all they life won’t get another one like it trying to take my own f-cking advice, sh-t
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