My intelligence is money
My skin is the streets of New York
My arms and legs are its fucked up bridges
The subways are the worms that consume my corpse
Liberty, my bitch, fucking everyone
They cut my two middle fingers down but my dick is still standing
I walked into Nasa, my pocket full of envelopes
And this chick swinging from my dick is into dope
Like hi-jackin with no planes, it's harmless
Way to shermed out to kick your fucking skull into your armpits
Can't find a dime, what's the worst that could happen
Cage got a knick for 8 millimeter action
No family man, even my daughter earning chasing after me with a fucking handy cam
Flippin while I'm holdin a jar, tell me if I'm going too far
Turn around I left some coke in the bar
Can't waste the range premise on this FBI-secretary with tits unless she's a chemist
See the liquid kids and streams of five on her
This is the minds blotter, paper-savior dipped in high blotter
And I'm more patriotic with the narcotic wrapped in the little flag in the back to hide it
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun, they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
My skin is the streets of New York
My arms and legs are its fucked up bridges
The subways are the worms that consume my corpse
Liberty, my bitch, fucking everyone
They cut my two middle fingers down but my dick is still standing
I walked into Nasa, my pocket full of envelopes
And this chick swinging from my dick is into dope
Like hi-jackin with no planes, it's harmless
Way to shermed out to kick your fucking skull into your armpits
Can't find a dime, what's the worst that could happen
Cage got a knick for 8 millimeter action
No family man, even my daughter earning chasing after me with a fucking handy cam
Flippin while I'm holdin a jar, tell me if I'm going too far
Turn around I left some coke in the bar
Can't waste the range premise on this FBI-secretary with tits unless she's a chemist
See the liquid kids and streams of five on her
This is the minds blotter, paper-savior dipped in high blotter
And I'm more patriotic with the narcotic wrapped in the little flag in the back to hide it
I ain't tryna train the sane, I'm playing the game
Like numbers scratched off a gun, they change your name
Chase the past and get the violence to spread
Got my arms in the dirt tryna silence the dead
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