{Verse 1: Plasthic Slash}
Flip like magun, with a style chics might gbadun
Stuck with Jessica Madu, I need Erykah Badu
Confabulatory pourparlers and soirees
Livefeed, roundtable of five G's, no Huawei
Who are they? Contemporary retiarii
Middle Age literature, some penned shall be bestiary
Impressions, possibly permanent first time
Weak ass rhymes, positive Trendelenburg sign
Hidden by tinted windows, few stand sentinel
Masquerading in long whips, new yam festival
Too damn merciful, coke galore, see I brokе tha law
My queen, sanguine locavore till I poked hеr raw
Overlord, murderer of Roger Ackroyd
Reprehensible dacoit, Black boy that lack joy
Real cursory glances, illusory chances
Aphorisms? Malapropisms? I’m used to the antics
{Bridge: Plasthic Slash}
Yo! Why do they call it the blue hour when it lasts twenty to thirty minutes max?
The blue minutes maybe, or the blue half-hour
Man! Why? Ah, fu*k it!
{Verse 2: Plasthic Slash}
Fresh to death like a new posthumous album
In pursuit of love, peace and the most humorous outcome
The musical youth sniff this like thurible soot
Break your balls with expertise, leave the crucible spooked
My one four seven, one eight seven to competitors
Bodies get chalked like medicine men with some editors
I dreamt MTV Cribs found my basinet
Snitches croon as we wait for angels to sound tha clarinet
Rat singer for judge? Francis instead of Benedict
Pastors feasting off the bible like Emperor Menelik
Their game is tithe, their aim is fright for brainless types
The blood of Jesus all over them stainless mics
On rainless nights, I lay on the terrace and stare at the aether
While some twenty oh one hip hop tracks blare out the speaker
Toss a mantle over my core principles and take up the dirt
Building from the foundation that makes up the face of the earth