SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS
07-07-2007, 08:54 PM
Lace up ya Tim boots my flow fluxgates
When I resonate against those who doubt me/
Order me around like some servant for the German Nazis
I rock bars like jail cells I’m hard as nails and never say die/
You don’t even worry about a man as skilled as me
I got enough skills to rely on just a beat to carry me/
You can write cha name in ground or the sky
But fame doesn’t concern me one bit or worry/
I got a fury that’s a flurry that cha can’t bury that easily
Lyrically my jistsu’s are technically sound like ninjistsu/
Coming wit my brand of kung fu, karate and ninjistsu
I can splice and dice ya rhymes like mince meat and rice/
You ain’t got a pair of knives that rival this guy’s guise
I’m disguise like one of them Russian spies/
I have twin eyes divide by PIE showing my flow can SIGN
Mathematically I rise IN MY MIND I’ll never quit my day job/
Fuck a hand job bitch give me the whole kitten caboodle
I oodles and noodle you rice patty cake emcees wit no skills indeed/
I can feed cha need check the DOJO out if you wanna play for real
I don’t kneel and keel over whether I’m drunk or sober I’m ice colder/
Split cha in two wit more parables than variables
Coming wit narratives and no sparring knowledge/
Cut cha in the neck slit cha throat ya life force can’t cope
Ya vocals are dope but drowning in sorrow and hope/
You don’t got a scope of skills to carry this bill of rights
Despite cha rival thoughts I cross that barrier along time ago/
So don’t give me that joke of a lecture I’ve felt the pressure
I go under the knife and come back to life like Fran Dresser/
Debunk and replenished my rhymes reboot my flow like a computer
Don’t think of me as any ordinary suitor I’m cold and cruder than any ruler/
You’re a fool if you think you break me by not even respecting me
It ain’t density it’s the shining art of this lyrical weaponry/
I can give you a disclaimer like the P-M-R-C but you still can’t see me
I’m a density child crushing my opponents wit one move of my bowels/
And that’s how I end e’m wit more misery you don’t got enough company
To puncture me I function wit more processors
M-E, X-P and Vista can consider me/
I’m gunning for e’m
Wit my sword in tow
I’m hit e’m wit what I know
It’s back to ripping it raw
Wit the technical sword
When I resonate against those who doubt me/
Order me around like some servant for the German Nazis
I rock bars like jail cells I’m hard as nails and never say die/
You don’t even worry about a man as skilled as me
I got enough skills to rely on just a beat to carry me/
You can write cha name in ground or the sky
But fame doesn’t concern me one bit or worry/
I got a fury that’s a flurry that cha can’t bury that easily
Lyrically my jistsu’s are technically sound like ninjistsu/
Coming wit my brand of kung fu, karate and ninjistsu
I can splice and dice ya rhymes like mince meat and rice/
You ain’t got a pair of knives that rival this guy’s guise
I’m disguise like one of them Russian spies/
I have twin eyes divide by PIE showing my flow can SIGN
Mathematically I rise IN MY MIND I’ll never quit my day job/
Fuck a hand job bitch give me the whole kitten caboodle
I oodles and noodle you rice patty cake emcees wit no skills indeed/
I can feed cha need check the DOJO out if you wanna play for real
I don’t kneel and keel over whether I’m drunk or sober I’m ice colder/
Split cha in two wit more parables than variables
Coming wit narratives and no sparring knowledge/
Cut cha in the neck slit cha throat ya life force can’t cope
Ya vocals are dope but drowning in sorrow and hope/
You don’t got a scope of skills to carry this bill of rights
Despite cha rival thoughts I cross that barrier along time ago/
So don’t give me that joke of a lecture I’ve felt the pressure
I go under the knife and come back to life like Fran Dresser/
Debunk and replenished my rhymes reboot my flow like a computer
Don’t think of me as any ordinary suitor I’m cold and cruder than any ruler/
You’re a fool if you think you break me by not even respecting me
It ain’t density it’s the shining art of this lyrical weaponry/
I can give you a disclaimer like the P-M-R-C but you still can’t see me
I’m a density child crushing my opponents wit one move of my bowels/
And that’s how I end e’m wit more misery you don’t got enough company
To puncture me I function wit more processors
M-E, X-P and Vista can consider me/
I’m gunning for e’m
Wit my sword in tow
I’m hit e’m wit what I know
It’s back to ripping it raw
Wit the technical sword