Bruce Templeton - R.I.P.C.D. lyrics

[Verse 1: Erick Arc Elliott] The rhyme is so raw, most these rappers need a seminar You copy the same schematics, you making the same songs You thought that you were the only, but understand it's the physical Artistry manifest, but no ideas original Sick as creation no need for further an*lysis Plus the beats bang prestige giving me calluses Even if it's a**umed, proving it all again Selling out all the shows never selling out who I am Mild temper venter, chronic keep me casual Formally introduced to a journey into the natural The three, two zeros then proceeded by one Laced like your woven tennis shoes before you go run Danger danger, Will Robinson There's a crisis here, nappy ain't dirty Raised this man it's just a type of hair Nightmares have just begun, there's no enticing him Limbs relaxed, but your music pop like a Vicodin [Hook: Eric Arc Elliott] R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be [Verse 2: Zombie Juice] Smoke smoke drip sip sip sip Eyes closed like I missed this No forgiveness, just a sick b**h Cause I'm under destruction what is this? Just a young n***a ready to get this If I fall on my face, you're my witness Feast on my blood when I leave this Didn't mention I'm starting to think that This world is lost like a sea ship Walking to hell with the demons How can the heavens defeat them? Sometimes I just wanna, leave 'em This feeling is something, I can't run I just wanna be where I came from I'm never gon' see where I came from Rest in peace to the Queen son Brooklyn baby reborn Tripping up, you lukewarm This is like a warning Flatbush swarming Nike shoes on Prove them critics wrong getting cream b**h I love it And the fans hold us down, put nothing above it [Hook: Eric Arc Elliott] R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be used to be, used to be R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to beused to be, used to be [Verse 3: Meechy Darko] The wickedest, man of fire the new Richard Pryor The wicked lit, rubber on my dick Cause I don't want that Charlie Sheen sh** Please don't say you're the highest until you met your highness I just, want the head like ISIS f** her so precise her p**y gushing like a geyser I'm Michael Myers with these grip pliers took off your eyelids I sit in silence, speaking tongues and burned Bibles So open letter to all of my rivals you will not vanquish my titles My semi-automatic, will splatter a n***a like Jackson Pollock Deranged since birth I was conceived in an insane asylum I solemnly swear this evening to refrain from the violence Young and wilding, psilocybin still my style is LSD drops in my iris, tire mark, police sirens No guidance, the belly of the beast is where I reside in Grimy and vibrant like Busta Rhymes, in the early 90's Click boom, your head blew like you play for the Giants Lyrical tyrant the way I be rhyming I deserve all of the Pulitzer prizes my pistol be hiding I pull it surprise 'em My voice can be hypnotizing every verse I deliver be vivid and visually striking Been the highest since I arrived and the climate is rising It's 'bout to get violent cover your eye And take this lyrical dosage that Doctor Meechy Dark prescribed ya I slide inside her I love her tight vagina no E-Z Widers Back to the cypher I got chronic to light up pa** me the lighter [Hook: Eric Arc Elliott] R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to beused to be,used to be R.I.P. to the CD can't even play my hits Cause new computer sh** without the means to play the sh** We love to boost the speed We love the memory It got me feeling like we're nothing like we used to be