Killah Tofu

[Verse 1: Danny Brown] Kush in the Swisher got a nigga lightheaded Heart beating fast, somebody call the paramedics My credit licking guts so everything is copacetic Your poems is polyester and your stanzas synthetic So give me my credit, I got my own lettuce These niggas want handouts, at these record labels beggin' I walk up in your studio, say "Fuck the atmosphere Your beat's wack and your engineer have no ear" Your fucking up the church's money, my rhymes like verse Sunday So get the wine out and let's count this money Nigga CHECK! The variation of my patterns is Saturn Through rhythmic conversation I tell you niggas what matters The ceremony master, your style is a bastard Turn niggas Casper, put your jersey in the rafters [Verse 2: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire] Fuck a job, I can't pass the drug test So much stuff in my system, pissin', I could make the cup melt Fuck death, what comes with success? A bunch of scumbag motherfuckers and some bitches with cum breath Rap pussies: they don't breathe, they queef That's word, the opus mag Them fringe benefits will have a nigga on the edge Paranoid, paranoid, everybody's out to get me Could work, you pay half and grow old, or I could be Biggie Biggie, pump your brakes like Mieneke Holland bitches sucking my dick while I sip, Heineken The Adderall is like a star on Mario: multicolored glow I could gong the gongshow Boss like, niggas perpetrate that they ain't this Just bow down to a nigga and kiss my fist I gives a fuck like a glory hole Been ill since I wrote my first rhyme in '99 with the N.O.R.E. flow Same thoughts as back then, I'm just weaker now The more I think about my past, I push it deeper down Inhale, exhale, life is like Braille It ain't about what you can see, it's more about what you can feel Motherfucker