mc elijah black - rappers say the darndest things lyrics
[intro: lauryn hill]
i don’t puff lye
i got my third eye
naturally without any synthetic high
my, there seems to be a lot of crews today
my, there seems to be a lot of crews today
[verse 1: mc elijah black]
my metaphors will make your mind metamorph
peace to metaphysic
bless your spirit
feeling megatron-ish
the way i transform into a sand storm and blind ya
then transport back to africa to get my dance on
i’m losing it
lucid dreams got my screws loosening
what you’re doing is lucrative
still it’s ludicrous
i’m a lunatic
howling at the moon again
feeling like an outkast, sir lucious with
a speakerboxx
blasting beats from pac
yelling “thug life”
the hate you gave a little infant only made him love life
all i need is one mic
make em sick. gazunt-te
a jungle guy
fighting off homunculi
with drunken eyes
trying to get a piece of the pumpkin pie
it’s scary i was chilling with mary the other night
said i had to let her go so i could function right
now these hard times got me contemplating touching white
nah. see i rather clutch a mic
clutch as mike in game 6
with a strange fix for touching skies
i ain’t in it for the duncan hines
so the sk!lls eternal like sunshine
leave your mind spotless
when i rock this
you better believe it
a g*nius negus
with mean clique
walking through egypt
dodged a bullet when i bent down to clean my sneakers
you call it luck. i call it fate
got some calls to make before i’m sky high
check my coordinates
i’ll do a fly by in a starship
you can rain on my parade but my parade’s in a garden
so in the end, we all win
say a prayer for all men
amen
trying to get in a nut in a world full of almonds and pistachios
before my ship sinks like de caprio
[verse 2: sh-ll sneed]
yo, if you can’t tell, you better ask sh-ll
choose your words wisely i’m fluent in rap well
leave losers bluer than cantrell
i’m relaxing with a black beauty to the music of maxwell
bad habits that feel better we lack fabrics
back flapping pretty wings with real feathers
fly like b-tterflies i sting like i hit home
chip bones get a good grip, then i rip stones
you better keep rolling on
i chain my thoughts with a golden charm
in an art that you was told was gone
grow a farm with the dopest songs
planting a seed, grappling beats. see me with hogan arms
i’m guessing you don’t know what’s going on
challenging sneed like asking for heat in a snowy form
you’ll actually melt. it’s bad for your health
try asking yourself what the task you was dealt
my crotch covered with the champions belt
leaping from the top turnbuckle
in a big splash you’ll turn puddle
belly landing i’m heavy handed with firm knuckles
you barely standing you clearly can’t win you’ll learn knuckle-head
but we ain’t stomping the yard
running things like don’t walk while you cross with the guards
your punchlines is too short to try and box with the gods
i’m the warden of the jail cell the boss of the bars
and there’s nothing you can tell sh-ll of course in at large
k!ll em often when i’m coughing hope the coffin is charged
unusual verses cause funeral services
every musical note i kick has beautiful purposes
[verse 3: philoz]
on a pursuit for an excuse not to reload or shoot
but i’m gunnin’ for better so that notions been thrown off the roof
like diagonal chess pieces being played by amauru
o.epps on set dodging techs. my scenes are unlawful
scenery’s shoved , images i tend to push
glare with future eyes, obliterate any prior looks
if it looks pryor, guarantee it gets burned like such
my life is rough, its only right that what i write brings diamonds up
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