Rappers Say The Darndest Things

[Intro: Lauryn Hill] I don't puff lye I got my third eye Naturally without any synthetic high My, there seems to be a lot of crews today My, there seems to be a lot of crews today [Verse 1: MC Elijah Black] My metaphors will make your mind metamorph Peace to Metaphysic Bless your spirit Feeling Megatron-ish The way I transform into a sand storm and blind ya Then transport back to Africa to get my dance on I'm losing it Lucid dreams got my screws loosening What you’re doing is lucrative Still it's ludicrous I'm a lunatic Howling at the moon again Feeling like an Outkast, Sir Lucious with A Speakerboxx Blasting beats from Pac Yelling “Thug Life” The hate you gave a little infant only made him love life All I need is one mic Make em sick. Gazuntite A jungle guy Fighting off homunculi With drunken eyes Trying to get a piece of the pumpkin pie It's scary I was chilling with Mary the other night Said I had to let her go so I could function right Now these hard times got me contemplating touching white Nah. See I rather clutch a mic Clutch as Mike in game 6 With a strange fix for touching skies I ain’t in it for the Duncan Hines So the skills eternal like sunshine Leave your mind spotless When I rock this You better believe it A genius negus With mean clique Walking through Egypt Dodged a bullet when I bent down to clean my sneakers You call it luck. I call it fate Got some calls to make before I'm sky high Check my coordinates I'll do a fly by in a starship You can rain on my parade but my parade’s in a garden So in the end, we all win Say a prayer for all men Amen Trying to get in a nut in a world full of almonds and pistachios Before my ship sinks like De Caprio [Verse 2: Shell Sneed] Yo, if you can't tell, you better ask Shell Choose your words wisely I'm fluent in rap well Leave losers bluer than Cantrell I'm relaxing with a black beauty to the music of Maxwell Bad habits that feel better we lack fabrics Back flapping pretty wings with real feathers Fly like butterflies I sting like I hit home Chip bones get a good grip, then I rip stones You better keep rolling on I chain my thoughts with a golden charm In an art that you was told was gone Grow a farm with the dopest songs Planting a seed, grappling beats. See me with Hogan arms I'm guessing you don't know what's going on Challenging Sneed like asking for heat in a snowy form You'll actually melt. It's bad for your health Try asking yourself what the task you was dealt My crotch covered with the champions belt Leaping from the top turnbuckle In a big splash you’ll turn puddle Belly landing I'm heavy handed with firm knuckles You barely standing you clearly can't win you'll learn knuckle-head But we ain't stomping the yard Running things like don't walk while you cross with the guards Your punchlines is too short to try and box with the gods I'm the warden of the jail cell the boss of the bars And there’s nothing you can tell Shell of course in at large Kill em often when I'm coughing hope the coffin is charged Unusual verses cause funeral services Every musical note I kick has beautiful purposes [Verse 3: Philoz] On a pursuit for an excuse not to reload or shoot But I’m gunnin' for better so that notions been thrown off the roof Like diagonal chess pieces being played by Amauru O.Epps on set dodging techs. My scenes are unlawful Scenery's shoved , images I tend to push Glare with future eyes, obliterate any prior looks If it looks pryor, guarantee it gets burned like such My life is rough, its only right that what I write brings diamonds up