Seven - Earregular lyrics

[Intro: Tech N9ne] The Great Omnipotent Doc Strange is my name! Six-six-triple-eight-four-six-nine-nine-three Never don't try find me Why? Why? Cause I'm lost in the clouds N9ne? Earregular boss in the house [Verse 1: Tech N9ne] I don't hear what you hear, n***a Because I hear different you label me a wierd n***a I like that, and I like mixing dark and some clear liquor For the night cap, although we ain't the same I cheers with ya Then I'm right back, listning to Doors records While I get groupie who*es naked If it's a blood and gore message, in a movie I'll sure catch it My brain's a vorplex it, got many levels, your message Make a n***a want to ignore that sh**, y'all pissy poor, that's it Intricate bred I'm a bit, pompous, if I want it, that I'mma get While you're mad at your b**h Cause you know she at the back of the bus kissing the tat on my dick You gotta be sick, then I had her, thick anatomy, hit with the flattery tricks Stagger these raggety battery pricks Snake and bat ain't average, that'll be quits On one, two, three, my n***a! Doing four much with five, I be, my n***a! Six thousand and seven hundred degrees, my river! Ate a earregular mind state, but it fried N9ne's liver, huh?! [Hook: Tech N9ne] (x2) Earregular, we're nebula Dear secular listeners, we're here next to ya Giving you fear messed with original weird stress for ya Peer pressure, the ignorant near deaf n***as! [Verse 2: Tech N9ne] I know that my style is diff'rent! Meanwhile I get frowns and lips bent He better know, we let it go, flee, never throw, glee at a ho, see that a pro Will make the sounds breaking down the distance I get my psyche blown, when I sit and write these songs Then I f** with my Nikes on: "Plop, plop, plop, plop!" To the women it might be wrong, cause in the middle of the night he gone And the wife of the night she's home: "Stop, stop, stop, stop!" So many sicknesses that I get medicine, I get it up off a n***a But it can never disappear, I know many get with this But it's a couple of really stupid individuals looking for the N9na fate Cause I innovate, and I be the Yates, they can disintegrate Guess my sin it begins with the number before ten And being a clown, always been and raised! When I rhyme my design isn't mindless You can find Tech, flowing up the divine stretch Never spineless, spider K's a rhyme vet And we ain't the only earregular since I got Stevie, Mayday and I signed Ces [Hook] (x2) [Verse 3: Tech N9ne] Y'all motherf**ers stuck on stupid (Duh!) I tried to slow it, but my flow's no lucid, thing I gotta be clever to do "This Ring" You can feel it if you 67 or you 15 ("Aggin!") Yeah, that's "n***a" backwards, Tech N9ne be that spitter master With a Cris, with her mugs, and I'm with a grasher Let a chick on the bus and I'm finna smash her Could have been a ba*tard Swimming in cash and the laughter, I'mma sinner faster Better get a pastor [Hook] (x2)