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mr. motherfucking exquire - oh hail no lyrics

ever notice when you talk i just cut myself?
on some ultimate f-ck you, go f-ck yourself
like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself
i loved the part where you cried, i liked nothing else
who me? every breath is a criminal, critical breach
bl–dy guns, speech, beat minimalisimo
make you spin like you sniffing that god particle
that purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article
originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising
hollow man bop, gliding
shuffle through the tides of slime smiling
could be the high or just mind control dying
f-ck it throw me on the problem pile
i’m a grin from the garbage, stained parchment
peeking out of my blinds in the apartment
waiting for that “hark hear that archangel calling?”
pocket full of air plus nothing to wear
i’ve been told i was put here to fail
but never ask me to hail
never ask me to hail
i’m strapped in shaved head in an electric chair
with a grin going out with a flair
but never ask me to hail
never ask me to hail
jesus turned water to wine, i turn liquor to ur-ine
s-x with one wh0r- is deplorable i need four at a time
maybe i’m lost in the grind, haunted by all i desire
forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire
cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-
meant to be something other than this but i think i forgot
shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock
no i won’t p-ss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac
visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes
vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile
endless, intentions to climb, uphill and p-ss in the sky
(brooklyn is up in this motherf-cker so suck on our) c-ck
check!
the natural magician, these rappers’ nutrition
i’m sh-tting on their writtens while i’m p-ssing on their freestyles
my patterns are argyle, your’s more checker board
my lecture is lecter, your texture is pocket protector
with techniques i tech up your sector
inspector gadget with the ratchet
b-tch won a beauty pageant, bought her -ss a rabbit
but not a furry bunny b-tch i’m all about these moneys
ah! tummy empty and i’m dazed when sunny
so i had to sell crack cause i ain’t wanna be bummy
granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy
off that mobb deep sh-t had me saying dunny
done. this n-gga here is not a dummy
look at all that he has done, you n-ggas feeling crummy
gummy bear you running where? it’s like a fat b-tch running a hundred stairs
i’m ric flair, with thick hair
yelling out “woo!” getting head in the director’s chair

- mr motherfucking exquire lyrics

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