Chords - Schmack! lyrics

*Scratches by DJ Amato* Man, the po-po split, they heard I'm on the solo tip I jump the beat, work it like a pogo stick Oh no, it's Chords with a thorn in his side "Crash your cipher" turn it into "the lord of the flies" On tour 'til I die, I swear man Chords wouldn't lie 'Til the states stop celebratin' the 4th of July 'Til the fat man eats the last order of fries And the big fish stop swimming in corporate lies "Stick to the plan" hand over a list of demands Give me 12 beats, a studio and 600 grams "Man" and you'll be there to see the sh** hit the fan Spliff in his hand popped up like the mystery man "Damn" I jump up swing the toolie "Nunchucks" straight out of a ninja movie "f**ed up" didn't really mean to injure groupies "Tough luck" I was aiming for Marimba Roney *Scratches by DJ Amato* What's on the menu doc, who's next to get scarred? I wild out like hard rocks with electric guitars Fill the page up with decadent bar Make rappers head for the stalls, checkin' their drawls And it's quite amazing how I run through quick Like 1,2 #### you're in a kung fu grip M.O.N.S. drops the body rock And if he's f**in with the beat, sh** is probably hot If you f** around with me you should probably stop "You know my steez" I break up ciphers with karate chops, man So you better avoid the issue I run through notepads like it was a toilet tissue "Deploy the missiles" show 'em I mean business Let my tongue start rollin' like Gene Simmons f** that, I throw a knuckle sandwich at 'em And call the paramedics while I puff the magic dragon *Scratches by DJ Amato* You can catch me in the back with a sticky In a cloud of smoke man, I leave the smackin' to Miki "That's how it goes" still roll through in a Yugo Both you and your crew know who's numero uno Who else, none other, C to the H O So reach for the payroll and leave me the pesos It's all a part of a master plan You get a publisher, hit him for a cash advance Then get kitted out like Dapper Dan And blow it all in one week down in Amsterdam There's only two rules: sh**, you're rich 'til you're broke And anything that can be saved in the mix is a joke I spit to provoke, leave competition stiff as the pope Arrogance, ill flow, got a little of both I just mix 'em up with molten lava Ghost I'm gone I leave you with an open palm