so fucked up from reading 'Thompson on the campaing trail of 72', got me so sick vomiting looking at the toilet thinking about you. and your style behind a mile spitting lyrics like bile, holding on obey's girl's dick like it's worth while. "we are discussing lyrical" destruction with out mental preparation, save so many domes with rhymes shorter than gnomes with 'tall-man' sensation. fuck hesitation i'm the destination you want to arrive like cuba, shits on the D.L. so deep only find it by scuba. frequency's deeper than a tuba unlike a brown note, turn on the spot lights at 3 am and find 6 niggaz with weed on a sinking boat. screams like a goat roaming around searching once you hit enter, type yo' password wrong and email the headz complaining O3EY gave you a verbal splinter.
fuck obey I'm the real Andre the giant O3EY motherfucker!
"white crane style"