Escape to 88

[Scratches] Who is this? Cage? With a little message The illest four letter word observe while I serve! That's no question Who is this? Cage? ? Cage Kennylz, back to the stage [Verse 1] Welcome to a piece of brain tissue My brain's lungs filled with octane like liquid it came from Some silly, set of tits sellin illy Really? By the jar? Pump the car full of grey jelly Called her Ronda, after I shit on the dash Cause I can't stand hooked up Honda's The three manuveur so swiftly in and out of looters Through checkpoints with juice in stashed coolers 2002, my album's played through ID on the window like it's fucking Beirut Too bad no planes flew into MTV I'll never get a platinum plaque for MP3 Being blackballed by a white MC - Pause I guess that faggot found the right MD And I'm twisted but not like faggots that suck fame This clown is saying I'm sicker with metal than Mudvayne I train my following like a bitch modelin H is like a God and it won't stop hollerin Fuck needing a TV to be a rockstar Punch a hole through Mark Wahlbergs chest and dent a copcar Put my brain in it, I wouldn't last a minute Scribble some shit in 30, I'm love like gimmicks Sluts, cynics, ducks with dipped spinach Fuckin you up in the front row's good for image [Scratches] [Verse 2] I got a walked on, half-eaten heart of a gorilla That lost his family and wants revenge on his killers Clapped the poacher, fled the stomach of rap through an ulcer Covered in blood, eating with vultures Off the chain it got a hook in its back Scalded my feet breastfeeding, moms was cooking up crack Drop me in a pot, cop me in the spot, pistols gleaming In the sun, look son - I'm fistal fiendin Non-descript, we're fleetin any malicious beatings Specially after y'all left a couple bitches breathin Six is reading, bitterly gritty Caught a GTA charge before Liberty City Too bad no brains blew out no heads plenty I'll prolly die after I Blow like Ted Demme There's no conspiracy, your bitch is a forced fit In the telly yelling "Behold the pale horse dick" Fuck the Taliban, I'm back to Ballys, and Keep your little faggot brother off of Sally, man I can explain this "do not cross this line" in my brain Feds in the crib, but they're not finding the cane Cause time in the game, New York is trife My boy T on the lamb like a fork and knife The corporate life, too fond of the blonde talker So I grew a beard and switched sides like John Walker