Knowledge (of Parallel Thought) - Chorus V lyrics

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Knowledge (of Parallel Thought) - Chorus V lyrics

[Verse 1 – C-Rayz Walz] {yawning} That was the realest yawn Step up, make a move, I'll k** your illest spawn And still it's on (it's on) ‘cause life is chess I am the king, the queen moves like Elliott Ness And you don't want potholes in your chest from a lawn dart In N.Y., kids shoot for nothin' like John Starks And I'm off the bench ‘cause the cops is coming You're a smart kid from the hood—yeah, my block is dumbin' Damn, if looks could k** My ice grill would pay for dinner while my punchlines foot the bill [Verse 2 – Vast Aire] They say great minds think alike. Hands that ticker The truth is… Fools seldom differ Think fast ‘cause somebody's thinkin' quicker I figure I be that whiskey in ya liver [Verse 3 – C-Rayz Walz] A thin line between Hell and where the hell's that? The streets eat cats like the beast from Melmack In time, you'll see your reflection in the face of the watch And your counterclockwise direction of pacin' the block Thunderbird, Night Train flame, wonder through herb Ah, wonderful world, it's a wonderful word This is elevator music on acid trip Break the cycle—we don't do pop or cla**ic hits The ba*tard spits so good, the 'burbs know we so hood Chop it up, put you in the forest—you should go wood The verse is ugly, the hoods look ill So I'm a retard that hits streets hard like Bushwick Bill [Verse 4 – Vast Aire] When you learn how to walk on water and spit fire They say that's pretend. Stupid You wanna play with d**h? Forget the whales, you better save your breath [Verse 5 – C-Rayz Walz] Once upon a time, second beyond the space in the outer Thundershower, son radiate grace Over the counter at C-Rayz underscore On your mark, they set to go and end the race with war Monkey see, forget how monkeys do When they hang with gorillas and become one of the crew With bandanas and boots they turn to cobras—it's bananas but true They money see and see money as truth Those eye dollar trees bleed coinless fruit You got the gall to score, but you don't got the balls to shoot [Verse 6 – Vast Aire] When the deads walk in, we'll see who's liver Ordered a Bloody Mary, woke up with a screwdriver The final calls sounds, elephant guns, clown the hungry You can't pin Armageddon on the tail of a donkey