Yo, I'm a wizardry with words, observe my thirds meant to be
Mentally disturbed in an industry of herbs
I, slaughter clowns in my part of town
And if an artist sound around
Watered down, he just outta drown
The flow curry, opposite from a snow flurry
So thirty below, when my fro grow curly
I'm after the gold, don't need whole
Just want half of the globe
And weed rolled in the bath, when I'm blowed
Know the name, and go for the Novocaine
I'll blow your brain from both sides of your dome
And leave your shoulders stained
The most anticipated, scans disks awaited
On the stands 'cause the fans wish to play it
Popular demand, you bought a drop top and you're the man
I caught the top opera in Japan, nigga
I think tall, jotted down, I let the ink draw
Shrink small, once the link fall, over my mink stall
And wig drama to your Big Mama, you won't get drama
When you get stuck like Stigmata
Let it be known, you already dethroned
Poetically, my head should be genetically cloned
El, strike boards through a mic cord
The way I cut it's like leaving spiked swords in a psych ward
And while you boast you the king, I'm the manual
A grand or so, roast from the jeans like a camel toe
Mentally disturbed in an industry of herbs
I, slaughter clowns in my part of town
And if an artist sound around
Watered down, he just outta drown
The flow curry, opposite from a snow flurry
So thirty below, when my fro grow curly
I'm after the gold, don't need whole
Just want half of the globe
And weed rolled in the bath, when I'm blowed
Know the name, and go for the Novocaine
I'll blow your brain from both sides of your dome
And leave your shoulders stained
The most anticipated, scans disks awaited
On the stands 'cause the fans wish to play it
Popular demand, you bought a drop top and you're the man
I caught the top opera in Japan, nigga
I think tall, jotted down, I let the ink draw
Shrink small, once the link fall, over my mink stall
And wig drama to your Big Mama, you won't get drama
When you get stuck like Stigmata
Let it be known, you already dethroned
Poetically, my head should be genetically cloned
El, strike boards through a mic cord
The way I cut it's like leaving spiked swords in a psych ward
And while you boast you the king, I'm the manual
A grand or so, roast from the jeans like a camel toe
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