Watkin Tudor Jones - Hidden Track lyrics

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Watkin Tudor Jones - Hidden Track lyrics

What color are your wings? Black, like a bat To the back of your head I swoop from my coop Scoop the cash and I jet Speak through the needle Me? Super Evil Eat stupid people Illest state, I illustrate Sick picks ya made Don't fixate on my pixelate Very (?) Keep the chicks away I'm dynamite, fresh out the box Every time I rhyme Rum ring round rookie raw rocker rather (?) Shop shop Bump blond chumps out the way you (?) Can't face the razor wrath Yes Yes I'm double plus X X On my ace rock My gates, like solar plex flex Flex hex through the (?) The whole scene is f**ed I'm the next Fright biter Grim grin Middle fang clang clang Tripping off the sim stim Glam with the slang bang My flow is (?) Pop a s**a funk blocka Shut the f** up Ya daddy tough rocka Plus the big bad biz wiz Spits as the lips split Riddle, like a fist kiss