Martin Malota - Good Mourning lyrics

Good Morning DL Jones on the beat and MOLA1 on the street We both come from the D. 31 to the 3 I wake up in the morning and piss excellence, then spit Brushing my teeth and I rinse away the evidence While I'm yawning I eat a rapper for breakfast Turn every expletive that they ever spit in to excrement Rap sh**, ever since I was born I'm Bjorn Borg with this racket, immaculate word is Bond...James. Game recognize game Dames recognize fame, I don't recognize lames Like who the f** is this, annoying me at 9:46? Wack rappers on the early morning mix Some very corny sh** it's like a f** you to the audience So f** you to the radio and anyone applauding it If cleanliness is Godliness, I'm obviously Jesus Christ with mics And maybe that was even just a little modest The rap artist slash Flash Gordon of recording I got the world in my palm and I'm thinkin' bout bowling Good Morning. Good Morning DL Jones on the beat and MOLA1 on the street We both come from the D. 31 to the 3 It's like a wake-up call It's a wrap for wack rappers, I'm hard core I'm backflippin over you ba*tards while laughing and screaming "Parkour!" And while I'm on tour, they want an encore How I'm a let you down? Flow wet torrential downpour I'm on a Concorde, no waiting at the concourse We'll see you, there'll be a minute til' you're on yours You know the pad's got armoires on all floors And on top of that we got alotta who*es on all fours Livin' so large that my cars got garage doors And I got a golf course, indoors on the top floor Taliban's asking ME why I'm so hard for And Kim Jong's ill, back spinnin' on the cardboard This is bad, real bad, we in Mordor I'm goin' hard, use the force Luke, Star Wars Your favorite rapper's face hung up on my dart board Guess I'll be the underdog riding on my dark horse Good Morning DL Jones on the beat and MOLA1 on the street We both come from the D. 31 to the 3 I used to break beats physically by putting my foot down When cats would speak up and tell me I need a hook Now, clowns, why should I have to count to see if it's sixteen If I'm upside down with a brush at the Sistine? Did Michaelangelo have to go through with the same sh** Like, mother f**er, just let me paint this Arrangement is stranger, than the Hawthorne Mayor's I'm a pop corn player on the block throwing layups - Stay up The Cleaner MOLA's name up - Martinizing Your whole persona's made up like you apologizing Quit rapping fake f**s, keep harmonizing I kid nap and rape drums, never compromising Optimized for my performance, the rhyme is so gorgeous The tyrant, I'm enormous Abominable flow man, you're hiding in the snow drifts Microphone Jesus when I'm speaking at the pulpit - I'm focused Good Morning DL Jones on the beat and MOLA1 on the street We both come from the D. 31 to the 3 Where we goin' for breakfast?