Max Bill - The Drop lyrics

["Victor, a stranger can see you"] If I'm not working or putting work in I'm either wheeling and dealing Or probably jerkin my... Yep listening to nothing, taking no suggestions Or destructive criticisms, that can't improve on perfection Rock a crowd in sections on a good night, the hoes fight Always get the dough first then everything else goes right At least that's what they say and who the f** is they? Make a hick say "what the hey?" brought that chick from sick bay Ensign, he shoulda asked his uppercla**men Before he bust blast em, never trust no Carda**ians Captains log supplemental The Klingons are now aboard the Enterprise rental vessal On my cue photon torpedo Oh and if I'm not on the block with Jorgito And so on for the street though Smoke a pound of leek though I'm jokin on the fact that hiphop has gone freak show Don't let the drama getcha In the only genre of music where the fans shoot the messenger b**h n***as talk behind your back like a catcher Either M-Y-O-B or B-Y-O stretcher In that order, man, woman, son, daughter The beat sound like they underwater, make it fun to slaughter Even if you hear some whack sh** you never give a chance Some sh** sound like all you could do off it is river-dance It's not a hobby, don't be sloppy Doing deals with these labels is likened to a botched robbery Nobody supposed to get bodied, golly This sh** is like a folly bout to cold flip probably It's not me he got a ill spills knot in Brooknam Where even though kids k** they still chill and look calm While working on new developments for the book bomb In one bad experiment it blew and took a hooker arm (arm and leg) BOW! look mom, no hand Studied black magic for years out in no man's land It's like a barbecue all swine cookout To f** up they plans like a blind man lookout Cram to overstand it, peep it and absorb it The same way he keep all the planets in they proper orbit Norbit, y'all better off going corporate Nobody wanna hear that bullsh** it's too morbid There's no prints, he hold the mic with a mic glove And rolls dolo from state to state like Ike Love Like on top of the world loser keep it gully Rap creeps seem they got too much juice in they belly It's why they brung V he still hungry And spit something thick on the mic like a lungy Mind ya daughter she on line for the water To get lucky like when she found a quarter kinda sorta Remember me God, clean timbs with emery board? He only came to save the game like a memory card Ooh shrewd, a lot of crews is too rude And it's way too many let's not and say we do dudes He said 24-7 I be on call He use his vacation days to watch Babylon fall Numbskulls.. get to stepping they dumb dull And how he rep the mic is like the weapon from Krull Cats be like what's wrong with your man black? Biohazard suit and Van Grack for the anthrax Jeez and can't get no peace Form blazin sword for the police robeast Cochise, write a rhyme like a book report And sell it to a rookie you could tell by the hook he bought You ain't know he sell hooks and choruses? They couldn't bang the slang if they looked in thesauruses It's like a friendly game of dodge ball Oddball God y'all, who played the garage wall With the Stan Smith's checkerboard lace And the brand new INF they ain't check the boy waist You saw his face? so who next to get they neck chopped Or popped like a Beck's top, respect the drop It's too much wreck hops Who next to get they neck chopped Or popped like a Beck's top, respect the drop Woopdie-do flows do fifty like a hooptie do Groupie crews try to figure out from what coop he flew They out of place, beats sounds like outer space With no time to waste he was outy without a trace