Strangeulation III

[Verse 1: Wrekonize] Wrapped in XLR cables Up from my whiskers, down to my fuckin' kicks Wreck-O was echoed in Gordon Geckos, you suckin' dick Nobody be askin' me for secrets, I ain't chuckin' tips I'd rather be bumpin' hips on that ratchet with muffin tits Tore up the limits from Britain visions would rock their lives Inside a prison where giddy bitches don't jock the rhyme Born in precision and rhythm spittin' could swat a fly For them to just kick a single shillings from Spotify Bye, Bye killers, on a high five business Gonna ride by the sickest in your high ride to the hitlist If we ain't spoke in ages then miss me with broken favors You Miley Cyrus to majors, you twerkin' on swollen razors (run now) Don't make me come to dinner, nail your tongue down And have you plead your case to us in Strangeland at sundown Be careful of the biz cause everything has got a price attached Wake up with a horse head in your bed and next your life is snatched [Verse 2: Bernz] Tank full of petro, bank full of pesos Pool on my tour bus, bonus on a payroll Feel like I be killin' it, famous on the internet Really I'm just wingin' it, cookin' shit on my kitchenette Life so good right now, I need to celebrate! Bout to sell a stadium out and turn it into rave! Look at how the industry norm has started lookin' Strange All my brothers riding the storm while they just ride the wave Caviar wishes, bitches for my bitches Black shades and hoodies and spots and white linens Feel like Sam Kinison, preachin' to the citizens Screamin' at the saints, "You ain't ever gonna get rid of us!" Guessin' I just cleaned my plate so now I'm gettin' cake Speedin' down the interstate, yellin' "Get out the fuckin' way" We plant flags in the ground because we here to stand I bring my whole hood out and have my own parade [Verse 3: Kutt Calhoun] (Black Gold!) I purposely wrote this verse just to murder, dismember, defecate Disassemble the limbs of a nigga who try and separate Artistry from nonfiction, I'm sent with a conviction To sentence you pawns givin' opinions on my addiction "There he goes, speakin' bout how he merk a beat" "Smellin' himself, why else would he flaunt about it so verbally?" Dance around me like I was a paraplegic In a do-si-do competition, lookin' pissed like I never heard of feet "Yadda, yadda", a whole lotta yappin' about my rappin' When I'm the captain of crunchin' you niggas' milky dreams I'm the comparison of Pac face staring in your face Mock razor blades, Kutt leave you crispy clean Don't ask Tech, ask me if it's questions Guarantee that he tell you that I'm the best and I'm destined To find a snake and a bat, helpin' Kansas City's progression Hopin' I hurt the feelings of whoever second guessed it cause Everybody talkin', I'mma make you niggas hear me Mind control flow, now, listen till your ears bleed [Verse 4: Ubiquitous] Spit it sicker than these sycophants, keep your dick up in your pants You were blunted on the block, me, I had some different plans I'm trying to get to France, sniffing grams, hit a branch Independent Powerhouse, vibin' out, wit' the fam Waking up in different cities every night, hittin' grants Stay prepared for this, I'm bearing witness to the sin of man Stripper dance with cinnamon, clubbin' with my gentlemen Drink away the night's events, nothing worth remembering Squad'll run up in this bitch, mobbin' like some immigrants Jack you for your paper stack, rob you of your innocence Taping off the scene of crimes, swabbing for my fingerprints Thought about my life, you thought the same and couldn't think of shit Ha! This type of fire don't extinguish Now write about some bigger shit, you striking out, swing and miss Ring around the Rosie, homie, pocket full of pain Keep a lock up on my lane and triple optic in my brain, look Ringing Ubiquitous: “Yeah, what up?" N9ne: "Ubi?" Ubiquitous: "What’s going on man?" N9ne: "Hold on… Travis is calling me, hold up." N9ne: "What up, Trav?" Travis: "What up man, I’m outside right now." N9ne: "Alright, here I come." Travis: "Alright." N9ne: "Peace. Ubi! You got the bitches number from… So and so?" Ubi: "From what? What, which bitch?" N9ne: "That redheaded bitch from… dadadadada." Ubi: "Oh, yeah yeah yeah. Want me to text it to you?" N9ne: "Yeah text it to me right now. Love." Ubi: "Aight peace.”