Kool A.D. - Pink Cocaine lyrics

[Kool. A.D.] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo Bless up, bless up Peace, Allah, jah, rastafari [?] L'chaim, tongo, yea, [?], tongo Allahu akbar Peace, bless up Intelligent black gentlemen Workaholic official bralick? The lost [?] Track lister, the whisper Hit you with the 53 shades of yurper Plus two for the road The love circle, the soul above Covers around the snug fixtures below The elemental shapes they combine In the tape echo signal to the ear burrow, hair vibration Hit you with your own private radio Personal radio station Empty the soul and let the soul stay vacant awhile Take a little soul vacation Vision through the hallways adjacent to edifices Elegantly terraced and sh** The manicured greenery, the perforated soul-healery Young Gail Greely with the publications Hovering inside of the Sun Soul suffocation The pink c**aine Hit you with the quick style I think, I think so, mayne Yo, I think slow brain Sometimes my mind clearer than a window pane I see through the window frame I, I seen through the window frame It's the peace, Allah, ja, rastafari changa Hit you with machine gun front f** apartheid, art life Truth is immaculate, gets fantastic Excess or success, I flex less and s** less Or, I flex much more Young Arthur Anderson, Rushmore William Blake, Anderson, Hans Christianson You and your mans listen like espionage Wreck me and presently lies Into the rectum of your celi- cerebellum The seller of the minds Ill seller door, the ill mind Mullato-type drug deal-maker The Jake-faker The merit lake Hell freeze over Figure skater The picture taker The numerator and denominator Both dominate the ghost in your shell Yo I hit you with the west coast carve and swell With the comics and books like Marvel Ice cream, Carvel Finessin' the bowl I'm flexin' on you, heh I could do impressions as well Nah, jokes, maybe a little But I don't feel like that right now I'm in the forest and I'm hiking around Feel like I'm in the lightning round Yo, the truth is a beautiful frightening sound Breaking all the Vicodin down and sniffin' it up Your n***a ain't giving a f**, mayne I'm livin' it up, mayne I'm lit [?] the [?] dutch Yo, shout to Detroit and the Pistons and such Uh, I sip liquor watching Simpsons and such And f**, whoa Yo, I feel like a young Thomas Pynchon, what up? Yo, Vincent Van Gogh with the pill box Chill with the ill vox Take a little Bronx tale, Jackie Chan, Chuckie Chaplin Who's askin' man Yo, I feel like I'm black Superman versus black Batman, don't ask man Remember that time I told you to throw your Tascam in the trash can? Yo, fish it back out let's make a track man I stand on the vast land grinnin' and winnin' and sinnin' and forgivin' and livin' Yo, I'm vivid with the perpetual styles that's hecka cool Shout out Amaze, Lauryn Hill, and Ka**a, and Tekla too [?] days in the tabernacle at the vestibule Mayne, the actual, Peace, Allah, bless up, jah, rastafa--