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c-rayz walz – pots and pans (radio) lyrics

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c-rayz walz – “pots and pans”
[emcee(s): c-rayz walz]
[producer(s): k. lew]

[intro: c-rayz walz]
leave it. leave that in

[bridge 1: c-rayz walz]
you make me sick, then you get me better
you crack me up just to put me back together
infinite wisdom. now and forever, overstand
pots and pans, real trendsetters

[hook: c-rayz walz]
many couldn’t see the light when the sun was dawning
tried to play me like a crackhead—four in the morning
selling vcrs. if you c-rayz walz, then
you know who i are. exactly

[verse 1: c-rayz walz]
i swim with planks, walk the sharks
blow up the charts with explosive darts, then part
me and noah went to mcdonald’s and stole the ark
in the huddle cut to construct the double-up mission like, “what?”
never beef with burgers—i’ll burn before flipping
polly with parakeets, hear myself speak and listen
the fast life: blast mics. in the house, i’m street
don’t sleep. i could reenact yours in a week
the lord of the flies born in disguise (surprise!), superion
nagasaki blaze, autopsy five
this flow wet, at shows get with more water than frisco
we old vets fully erect in the presence of your b-tch flow
funk buddha. off the top, i jump tutors
track-movers backsmack rap acts and hack computers
cats pursue the heavy shit i drop like stacked manure
k. lew produced the wax. don’t let the facts confuse ya

[hook: c-rayz walz]
many couldn’t see the light when the sun was dawning
tried to play me like a crackhead—four in the morning
selling vcrs. if you c-rayz walz, then
you know who i are. exactly

[verse 2: c-rayz walz]
yo, i’m murking
verbs, kicking the b-ss with my car dirking ‘burbs
then squirt on birds who act like they ain’t slurping turds
(f-ck you!) you get on my flurking nerves. broken words
in the hospital talking to the nurse with a curse and slur
you ever notice cowgirls always lurk in herds?
and moose dudes with a loose fuse look so absurd?
i’m cool. i’m just came home from hurricane verb
get your purse disturbed for rocking iceberg furs, you heard?
i’m k!lling the streets—i’ll be hurting curbs
three-time felon, i’m telling you second person’s first
my splurge in blurts, so i’ll make sure my weapon works
have you burst in splurts, bizarre like bourbon burps
surfing the ‘burbs, observing worthless jerks, searching
the earth, preserving the purpose is my curse and worse
nervous birds perch in the church and chirp and rehe-rs-
k!lling the sixteen while i’m burping the verse and still thirst

[hook: c-rayz walz]
many couldn’t see the light when the sun was dawning
tried to play me like a crackhead—four in the morning
selling vcrs. if you c-rayz walz, then
you know who i are. exactly

[verse 3: c-rayz walz]
snatch your patch out space, smack myself in the face
‘til the good’s in the hood. out of states, i’m to the greats
you see me in the news rocking lightning shoes
like i went to mount olympus and robbed zeus
write rhymes on pampers, drop shit often
tuberculosis brothers in a day room coughing
while the end begins, i see slaves with freedom
why politick with derelicts? i independently need them
i’m serious. you think i’m funny, fool?
you son of a gun, your mother’s a broke twenty-two
your pops is a forty-five with an empty clip
the sperm cell met the egg like, “he sent me…”
like spliffs that don’t lie/lye, this is my true joint
crossbred with pig cows, make you scream, “moo, oink”
we off the roof, land on clouds, get it on
off the top. yeah, you know how we get down

[hook: c-rayz walz]
many couldn’t see the light when the sun was dawning
tried to play me like a crackhead—four in the morning
selling vcrs. if you c-rayz walz, then
you know who i are. exactly

[verse 4: c-rayz walz]
yo, if the streets is crying, the crib is hurting
mad ‘cause the bonus track on your bootleg c-rayz tape ain’t working
sink overflower, you pink motorola. i think i’m
stronger than ginseng, ginkgo biloba
i’ll work out while i’m driving, pushup and pull over
while you stand still, running your mouth with a broken molar
utilize fans when my chapter’s bent. and with
the right hook, this could be a car accident
i’m the type to spit a hot verse that deserves replay
then get on some humble shit like, “yo, give it up for dj!”
i’m blessed with the wpix flow. (what?) “what?
what’s your opinion? we’d like to know”
on the permanent vacation, i’m temporarily stuck
plus, i’m overly concerned about not giving a f-ck
deep work cold chilling with no t-shirt. dropping
this shit twice, call it the “returd” until we return

[hook: c-rayz walz] (x2)
many couldn’t see the light when the sun was dawning
tried to play me like a crackhead—four in the morning
selling vcrs. if you c-rayz walz, then
you know who i are. exactly