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    Tilt
    Your frame ain't built for this angle
    Lateral battle moves, we strike on command
    With this mic in hand we ignite like c4
    And see through your paper this schemes

    [High Priest]
    It's about to get more ugly than the faces of broken homes
    With no china, bitter reminder, finder
    Figuratively speaking i'm like flex
    Index on the next tunnel banger
    Unbending a hanger to strangle or stab men in the abdomen
    Grab my head to stop the shakes
    Bake crates and take tapes to create new webs
    But for the love of the mic there is nothing
    That's what a rapper thinks
    What happened to being passionate about life
    Your spider scence is tingling
    Fingering new singles to select hi, i electrify microbes
    Incite crowds like a knife tossed off the top of the twin towers
    Wonder twin powers deactivate
    Decapitate these apes and finally make them understand

    Tilt
    Your frame ain't built for this angle
    Lateral battle moves, we strike on command
    With this mic in hand we ignite like c4
    And see through your paper this schemes

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    [Beans]
    Stupendous shuffleboard shifting
    Indescribable like inkblot
    Never the frail perils provokes popular plague perish
    Poverty jet set
    Empty bottle figurine bodies built for speed
    Bulimic cheerleader night ladies
    Who resemble underweight premature crack babies
    Circle like sharks undressed in the surf for cheap thrills
    But any upper class numbskull like coke on the head of your cock
    Shoot the horse to make glue, send you on the road to glory
    Kick crash
    Cast feet are dead, banished with bandwidth
    Banging heads mc's on empty
    Embrace my warm reception like blowing the nose with sandpaper
    Any time after now
    My always tight as a tube top ignition
    Remains stable like staples as sheets to the bed
    Father of your abortion
    No need for memories with a dictators generocity
    Diction of velocity chokes the respirator

    [M. Sayyid]
    Next shit slaps and spit out cats
    Into the ring off the canvas
    Into the press with the cameras
    Work it out like seventeen hammers
    Sayyid last seen with skeletons on scanners
    Room sixteen, the tropicana
    Where the lovin' is good and my focus is dopest
    So boast this concussion and comatoses
    Better be ready to battle before i ghost kids
    Overdosage of volts, quote quote
    My shit splashed liquied nasty like a cyst out of the wrist
    Unquote, dope like a belt, vein, and a fist
    Slip your disk, break your back and put it back back to the shack
    In the back of the back of the back where i laugh with a hat
    Open a latch, spark a match, and walk onto the track
    Marlboro red you
    Change myself into chuch scarborough and walk out of the bedroom
    Unwebbable bisymmetric centrifugal nonshiftable mineral pivotable
    Wild east nile, up close into your nose hole i roll
    Lop-sided in a vial, slide into the disease file
    With piles of styles in crates
    Smash your face into the shape of new york state

    Tilt
    Your frame ain't built for this angle
    Lateral battle moves, we strike on command
    With this mic in hand we ignite like c4
    And see through your paper this schemes

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