Ratking - Protein lyrics

[Verse 1: Wiki] Ain't been to church since back in the day Used to go to church back in the day Smacked and I'd pray, now I just laugh in dismay The earth is f**ed, the city is gone Is it worth for Wiki the Don? Sickly upon, grittier songs [Verse 2: Hak] It's the P-R-O-T-E-I-N, important portent of the past when I pen Native nectar with the rats in the pen Tokyo triggers, sans, gats and Benz, what Teenage roughs ain't got nut Nuthin' but a dream on the corner, brusk That ain't gonna start stuff A wave for the peeps and pretty girls who adore us Came to award mutts, licks and kisses, no cuffin' to the tours up Which brings me to the chorus Chant I cry thru my corpus for the gorgeous [Hook x2: Wiki] Protein hold me, against my will I will get my time to k**, If I don't get my thrill My will's to write a verse that's ill enough to get you filled Keep you strong, make sure you keep keeping on [Verse 3: Hak] What was life like, between this meal and last What'd you see, where it take you If lights were dimmed, would skies be any clearer Addle lines from adamize, peach war your mental valet Up to you to pluck your protein Rowdy kids cheatin' on the sun rise Borken paddle for a joyride Hop on a good foot, do the damn thing Slackin' on your city slang Teach ya' what ya' teacher did't taught ya Didn't learn to write in school [Verse 4: Wiki] This ain't 90's revival, it's earlier, it's tribal revival Before you learned from a Bible, you learn from your rivals Whose urgence was liable, to merk em' and leave em' in piles Before I get to earn that chieftain as my title For my mutt f**ed up people to admire, I sigh at the reply of your sire I am you people, your equal, your writer I am a simple pied pipe, I write what it is you desire Maybe if I-ya... I-ya, use a metaphor to describe the City's my cell, mayors my warden, I'm a lifer [Hook: Wiki] [Verse 5: Wiki] While you sh** in a toilet, I spit it is boiling Eyes wide open, I'm floating, my sh**'s buoyant You blinking and sinking when anointed with the ointment The ointment is my spit, I coined it a poison, or a cure if enjoying These word that been toiling In my head trying to get poignant as possible out my skull Avoiding the obstacles that unfold, and is it plausible I have a soul If I drag my feet for weeks, 'til I don't have soles