Guntitled

Ces Cru

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    This is my playground
    And I don't play around
    I bust a grammar Glock and leave em lying face down
    Ubi coming right behind me with that trait now
    Any n every enemy better black his face out
    Put em on, most pessimistic when pushing this
    Pen-point accuracy, thundering to get back to the beat
    Cause I'm bad to the B-O-N-E
    Only prescribing that purple pill
    Perpendicular to poison, that most certainly kills
    Only realer than the real, with the skill to prevail
    How I feel when it ain't all good
    I got six for the holier than thou, my pen pal
    Really wish ya'll would, would cop for the veteran
    And keep on knockin' but we not gon' let em in
    The question's rhetorical, give me a s-s-s-s-sentence

    What? Ya'll think we ain't gon' change
    You thought we'd stay the same
    With a legacy to be lost
    Never thoughts will f-f-f-fade away

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    Ya'll think we ain't gon' change
    You thought we'd stay the same
    What? Ya'll think we ain't gon' change
    Thought we'd always stay the same? [x2]

    They said we couldn't
    We didn't get in our wish is granted
    1, 2, 3 for the pen
    Independent no disadvantage
    This is Alanis, my rapping skills a jagged pill, swallow
    Following since when Tribe Called Quest was rapping still
    Now I'm back with the real
    Keep all eyes on deck when I'm on Ces
    We go way back like Biotech
    My style fresh
    When am I gon' get my dues?
    I write off stress, imagine this icon upset
    Turn the mic on and bless
    Preaching power
    Worship icons of death
    From Anubis to Ra to South-Vietnamese coup d'etat
    General D. and the chemical demons induce chaos
    Like a suitcase bombing
    Achmed and Jihad we been at odds
    Set em off, better get em off
    Never talk again when the pen is lodged
    In your larynx seriously it's so hilarious, ha
    Living off me vicariously, it's so American
    Arrogant naïve, marinate and wear-in a cape
    When Icarus got too close to the sun
    The pa-pa-pa-paraffin gave, serenade!

    It's the king of the king of the
    Wait a minute, no
    It's the prince of the city with the fatal sentence flow
    Sadomasochistic rhythm, rippin 80 minute show
    I'm supernatural, my sacrament
    Is scraping from these dreidel spinning hoes
    Whoa, I got an axe to grind, I got an axel in my mind
    I wind it till I'm binded to the nickels and dimes
    I drink until I'm spittin up slime
    Till I wrinkle like a pickle and brine
    I'm on a waterbed with your girl
    30 minutes later, that's a ripple in time
    My gun's may stop working but my missiles are fine
    Hob-knobin' hot dollar sign budget
    Kansas City traded Tony Gonzalez like fuck it
    Fuck pushin these cheap tricks
    Three things make money out in Kansas City
    That's drugs, pussy and Jesus
    B's itch and move the fuck over
    Get ready for the Mac Lethal movie
    Closing-liner rollercoaster motherfucker

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