[Verse 1: Themba Ntaka]
My religious references leave agnostics cross
As substance insinuations make fiends impatient
Swimming in solitude
Execute the stomach stroke
Blunders fall onto heirs like unwanted growth
Intravenous friend becomes a part of the blood oath
Poke into concealed tales that smell like parables
His face is on the post
With toes to the meet the bottom of a mora**
When he hits the North he'll learn to play instruments of bra**
These words aren't jazzed cause I'm dizzy
Teeter on a plume of fizzy pop songs
Want a play on words, I'm dealing words to play with
Dick,coochie, or maybe sports lazy p**y
Dove in my mouth
She really did that
Being 'bad' left this funny taste in my keepsake
I will never pick up a SAT book
Those black and white lines make rays on the textbook page