Sid Madrid - Addicted to the Lifestyle lyrics

ADDICTED TO THE LIFESTYLE [Solace Zeta] HOOK: [Whoa! Open the chalice-chauffeur/I say as we arrive at my palace-sober/] [I've been working hard my hands're calloused-over/] [So unlike them when I speak it doesn't reek of the foulest-odor/] [Just grip-it & shift-it into overdrive, living life-while/addicted to the lifestyle…] Verse 1: Boarding-planes in DIA/ Supporting-change see-I-may/ Be rewarding mileage for frequent-fliers/ The style-is suitable-while juvenile delinquents-admire/ ‘cause they think-it-conspires/ Around illegitimate-means/ But I'm not fulfilling-it, although I'm k**ing-it diligent when I'm chilling-it-careens/ Downwards through the town-herds/ But oops! The sound-swerves/ To avoid an obstacle/ There's no chance of defeat-rhyming, ‘cause the heat-I'm-in is devoid of popsicles/ When taking-ships to Costa Rica/ Or making-trips to roasts-in-Antigua/ Know I flow like the host with the most when I creep-ta/ The microphone & recite-a-poem/ The type to wipe-your-known/ Recesses. Psych!-your-prone/ To readdress-this as a mastermind who's steps-is/ Logically-an*lyzed/ Likened to the prominence of common-sense, Thinking of rap-authors drinking tap-water that chemically & biologically-sanitized/ In Third World-nations/ Just laying back slack with toes curled-waiting/ For ejaculation/ Preceded by being weeded & having coke with jack for stimulation/ But perhaps that's played out like Atari/ Or dentists on Safari/ ‘cause you all relay doubt like ‘Sorry/ I don't catch-it.'/ So you won't fetch-it/ Like a dog subjected/ To abuse, reduced to a shadow of the former-self/ It must leave you steamed-while, meanwhile I'm breaking-in-a-bad-flow For raking-in-the-mad-dough like a coroner's-wealth/ So like confetti, to get lifted, I don't need to get trife-while/ I'm already addicted, to the mother f**ing lifestyle… [HOOK] Verse 2: Cueing-times as I'm spewing-rhymes by the gallons/ Rip & grip mics like he's got talons/ Emerging from the epidermis/ Try-me. So who wants to defy-me? What? You want to decry-me, for encouraging the skirmish?/ In the form-of a swarm-of bulls-running, My outta control-cunning also sends-up-dust/ That appears infinite as a prompted-system & to competition when-it clears, ends-up-crushed/ Likened-to-grapes in Chilean-vineyards-of-maturity, it's cleverly-beneficial/ The striking-escape from the brazen-innards-of-immaturity, I'll never-be-superficial/ As these recycled-identities with spiteful-tendencies & yet they require-perks/ Like glamour, but freeze like tree's sap to amber When I let-it-off on tracks, set-it-off like fire-works/ On the New-Year-in-China, to get technical at spectacles I just desire-quirks/ As you-fear-vaginas of Brazilians and Sicilians/ I smile under covers removing-panties/ While my brother's snowboarding smooth-in-the-Andes/ Now it's my turn-is-right!/ I burned-as-bright/ As phosphorous from my esophagus to be prosperous/ & look, now I'm deploying-a-nice-rhyme to have all those “Damn-yous”-pardoned/ I was sober-cooking before enjoying-rice-wine overlooking a bamboo-garden/ See most rappers are the same-as-copies/ & on the mic-be unlike-me, You really can't see ‘em at games-of-hockey/ Dumba**es so they can shove-it, in public Wear sungla**es to look like they're shady-&-co*ky/ But everything I dream & sing is serene as the Canadian-Rockies/ So that while your frame's-penetrated/ I leave your brain-stimulated/ Because still at will my sk** & game's-venerated/ As it's depicted sharper than a knife's-profile/ I've come to be addicted to the lifestyle…