Ab-Soul - Writer's Block lyrics

[Ab-soul] (stone cold) Stone cold, k**a soul, back, with a iller flow Packed, like a sack lunch with a rap that'll detach ya like Velcro Spit a sixteen then hell rose (talkin' out ya a**) I bend a n***a like a elbow, for talkin' out his a** But I don't hear sh** less he talkin' bout this cash Flip em like an hour gla** now that's dirty shower fast n***a (The game) I got the game mad, like scarface throwin a tantrum C to the root of all evil deeds, dont plant em' Ab the miraculous to rap what math is to calculus (Big figures) Look out for dis' no other n***a figure, could amount to this I'm bigger than jigga's home boy from the sty And I dont dot em I just got shades over my eyes.....SOUL (the gift) Lord knows I got the gift Why you lookin' surprised swallow your pride Before you choke and need the Heimlich Maneuver You a threat? I'm Nortan anti-virus Ima remove ya bet (Top dog entertainment) It's Top Dawg Entertainment, f** y'all pups I tell my b**hes let ya hair down, leave on your pumps My doors always open, you can leave when you want, yup! (Top notch) Top notch to my socks, and my shoes fit perfectly Start me out I'm finna start sh**ting on n***as purposely Call me out like an umpire and ima fire (f**ed up) Like when an employers budget is cut As long as y'all ridin' my dick I'm f**in' you up No gay sh** back to the basics fat laces in my ace 6 (Slavery) Got it mastered like a plantation owner back in the 1800's You n***as love it you starvin' I'm grubbin Open the oven and have a bite that's equivalent to how I write (Food for thought) Its food for thought for your appetite Hand me a compa**, n***a I'm lost in this afterlife if I'm readin' these chapters right Was heaven bound, but hell, that ain't happen right (Black hoodie) Oh well, I make the best of what I got when it's hot Black hoodie on attractin' more heat than a spot Wit crack rock by the zip don't let your kanine sniff And be surprised when he go stiff, im poppin like a 4 5th In yo function humpin yo b**h, she come home fussin Thats cold, it must be december or sumfin, she slipped and fell on my dick and I ain't yell timber or nuffin, sh** (Writers block) This what I come up with when I got writers block Win by any means necessary tie a knot, A-round ya voice box A B, soul heat stroke any man come across this line, finito I wipe my feet on ya CD cover like welcome matts Bien venido, how bout that Got my hand on my GAT no im lyin thats my testicle And its growin like vegeteble Get off my groin h*mos**uals I tell you n***as time and time again Perpetual, liars on the mic get fried like rice & wontons in hong kong ONE