OakeleyDoakeley - B3G lyrics

Turn up the slaps right quick. Please smear it in the ears, Like paps for these chicks. Gimme hats for these tricks; Magician looking for a haberdasher --another ad on craigslist. Rap's just a check I need to cash, sir. Lips like crackers lacking Chapstick on haters saltier than kickbacks with a catfish. And I'm fresher than the habitat of a different catfish. Need foundation and building is hard. I gotta stack these bricks and drop a couple bars. I'm tryna make the world spin so I can see some stars like I was a Looney Tune astronaut. Jack-of-all trades with hands so nonchalant. I wanna be the man that starts the renaissance. I'm just tryna find something to die for, So be kind while I rack up this high score. Points for joints is all I really ask for; Y'all disappoint like a buncha bu*ton mashers. Very far from challengers, these players need pastors. I'm already past 'em while they stuck, tryna catch up, Broken in plaster. Fncked from the neck up Casting away at chances to get a cast Of cra** characters fi dip suh. Wait hold up, pause. Lemme press start. Lamest on your team, whatsya power? I guess heart. I'm the sh**; everyone else's just the best farts. Strategically fatal like chess darts. Next part: I get Smart. The rest is Max stupid. Defeat me? You gotta be dreaming, man; lucid. Egyptian freshman tryna tell me who a noob is. So foolish; grownups kick it with schoolkids, Back o' the cla** jacka**es askin me, "How u do dis?" Of course I been there, done that. Pickney tek a dunce cap. Truesh**, I'll crush crews and give their guns back. Rob a wack rapper on a track and tell 'im, "Run dat." Some chat and talk sh**; diarhea vocab. But I run off bio-fuel; y'all gimme mo' gas. Tonight write in ya diary how you mo' mad. Praise for my ego; hate goes to my gonads. I got the balls for this game; I ain't even playin. I guess what I'm sayin is I know I'm a lame. At least what I spit don't try to sound the same Like every other MC tryna spin for fame: Wheel of Fortune mindset with roulette gains. Why you rushing, you'll get shot tryna get up in frame. Roger Rabbit habits. Going crazy over dem dames Proves extra baggage gets unclaimed When witches flip switches, leaving you Max Payne. No Gain to get out the wicked wax stains Of the candlestick lickin your back with dat flame. Burnin your bridges, missin ya past. That's a shame. Decisions, choosing the right path splits the brain. Four quarters in ya head aching for some change. Maintain. I offer a dollar for my thoughts, Tryna screw daughters while tryna dodge their pops, Laughing at motherf**ers still tryna be Pac. Feebs stop short; a genius stops the clock. Time never waits so chase and grab its forelocks. Space gives grace, cuts slack, "Yo, there's more spots." The forlorn forgot karate. "Kid, you got chops." Curly mustache; Pringles or Dali? Jeez, I can't stop. No brakes, cut 'em off I want the speed. Madness of my method. Man, I am amphetemine. I shouldn't have to tell ya what I mean. Gotta go faster, grab a couple gold rings. Ladies compliment my swagger. "O, this old thing?" I ain't much of a braggart despite how it seems. Not-so-average, below above- and in between The best and the worst of all possible scenes. Senseless trendsetter with manners so clean. Man, lose the leather, wear a sweater with them jeans. Forget the denim, tie the heffer up with these chords. Write in rainy weather fightin myself, bored. Tryna get better to take on the horde. No alliances; how could I get a Megazord? My powers range from practical to insane. Wizard so strange that I should not be named. Stuck with a lizard brain and tumbling to fame.