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kmd - sorcerers lyrics

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[verse 1: mf doom]
“yo, ain’t that?” he’s not that cat
got that, and he never shot that gat
clever spot rats, face plate glisten
he got fat and hate for jake snake plissken
y’all got the wrong tape by mistake, listen to it hissin’
crack the safe, his cake’s missin’
backs to break to tape this could make in prison
fake dissin’, and bake that the wig twistin’

[verse 2: lil’ sci]
legend stature
since the prime factor of the blast master
gift of gab, mic wrapper, rapper ever
tracks with terror, like bad meanin’ good though
i’m talkin’ some of the finest truths to ever bang in your hood, yo
world notoriety, recognized by mad societies
for supplyin’ that high-fi so fly
oh my, skies clear as day
go sit down in the sunshine
takin’ rappers out like lunch time

[verse 3: id 4 windz]
it’s just one of those
bullet holes deliver k!ller notes
silence never spoke violence
keep quiet while you wildin’ tryin’ to live the island
nonsense is never callin’ 80 g’s behind him
still crime affects time on the island
nickel and dimin’ the hustle’s optional
powerful moves
copped two work shifts, block side-gig or two
under the table
the tammy food blaze with
stay paid if the name fits you

[verse 4]
[mf doom]
who went back and made y’all the boss of us?
[id 4 windz]
it’s the rawest mc’s that flossed’ed it
[mf doom]
sorcerers
[lil’ sci]
it’s furtherin’ the era that most know of
[mf doom]
everywhere he go they go
that whole show love
thank god for the buddha
tank armor suitor
[lil’ sci]
word kama sutra user
[mf doom]
stank mama recruiter
[lil’ sci]
broad set fools up

[verse 5: id 4 windz]
god get your jewels up (buddha)
get your jewels up
get your jewels up
superstar, all pro, homegrown
the craft speaks alone, mastered this closed casket
pro savages, poor travelers, hunger reach streets battlers
money the dollar the dream gaffled up
scalpel cut broke
dope gettin’ that’s most definite
gold record hits spinnin’, grind forever get it
god’s clever buildin’, cheddar fillin’
keep the better living’
miscellaneous thoughts
gettin’ millions, know that feelin’

[verse 6: lil’ sci]
you had enough of that ’85 jive talkin’
loonie schemes, somethin’ right off of the movie screens
burn hollywood like arson
more powers than austin, sound awesome
pump these sounds often
last chance to come off, son
for more to come in the mental auditorium without forcin’ him
strung him up on the last joint but it don’t stop
doing this so the world could rock
who blows spots?

[verse 7: mf doom]
mommy, look, he talkin’ to his self and walkin’ fast
on the ave, hawkin’ -ss with the walkman on blast
coby headphones wack
at least it’s dolby sony chrome c-ssette
only the best you can get off the black market
tell it, find these truer h-ll strategies
sell it like chinese duracell batteries
two dollar for change for a aqua blue benjie
these were brand new
he grew stingy gingerly



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