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buddha monk - spaz out lyrics

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[chorus 1: q-plex]
(spaz out) who the f-ck let mr. pink out?

[chorus 2: mozart]
(spaz out) who the f-ck let art out?

[chorus 3: sleep murda]
(spaz out) who the f-ck let sleep out?

[chorus 4: babyface fensta]
(spaz out) who the f-ck let mr. fensta out?

[chorus 1]

[q-plex]
they got me drugged off of ritalins
i press up, jericho, my hand heed the pressure
coming down, grab my smith and i’ll wet ya
crush ya forehead, eating willie beef and bread
fed off the dead, they said i lost my noodles
you can tell by my drowsy red pupils that he’s cuckoo
multi personalities, i’m starting, talking to myself
stay clear, when i’m walking with myself
i’m the type of n-gga, that be lurking in the dark
when my stomach start growling, crazy cats start prowling
he got scared, he moves his bowels when, i crept through

[choruses 1-4, then 2]

[mozart]
the mad house
yo it’s a wrap when i snap like a wore down condom
and carve ’em, pierce ya face and peal ya skin off like an orange
your dogs, better call ’em (spaz out) and make a psychiatrist p-ss out
my mask, i left it in the house, cuz i can’t be f-cked with
like somebody who got aids with they business out in the public
out to destruct sh-t, transforming, enduring
stomping with enough force to get the earth out of orbit

[chorus 2, 1, 3, 4, 3]

[sleep murda]
king’s county, third floor resident
i stomp blood out ya mug with my f-cking timberlands
paint my face red with ya blood like a crazed indian
buck fifty from ear to belly like a c-section
you might be crip but in a minute, blood you’ll be sweating
spaz out, go ‘head, i dare you to act out
i make it much harder for ya b-tch–ss to scream out
sleeper ’til the size of a wretch
i’ll bust you to show you what the red ’bout

[chorus 3, 4, 1, 2]

[babyface fensta]
(spaz out) who the f-ck let the brain out
you -ssed out, lil’ hoe, j. lo type
n-ggas got a lot of b-tch in ’em, brrrrrrr stick ’em, crime victim
i spit on ya mural, my train of thoughts, sh-t ya diarrhea flow
you get beat on my street, have you doing the electric boogie
breaking ya neck to get the f-ck outta dodge
roof, ya air force 1’s hanging from a lamp post, on top of, somebody’s garage
i spaz on saps, remember who’s a mixture of, riddle me this and white jokes
with a sinister grim, muahhahaa…

[chorus 4, 2, 1, 3]

[outro: all]
spaz out… spaz out…



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