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scribes - monster lyrics

[intro]
yo, check it out

[verse 1: scribes]
foes, i’m a demon to modern metropolis
like a lock ness monster that offer apocalypse
f-ck your thanks, homie, i want payment announced
until my franklin amounts ain’t bouncin in bank accounts
don’t wanna pay me u’ll be dodgin a brick
ain’t makin sh-t, u bankin like a fraudulent trick
f-ck em all, you hip-hop lobbyists shop laws
my l-ssos, pull d-ld-s up out ur -ssh0l-s
flows spat crumblin cats like gats gunnin’
cold, while u fumble the flow the track summons
back gunnin’, capitol low i lack fundin’
smoke foes, still i rumble with those on rap run ins
souls in the tunnel of scribes, cold humble the wise
pack shows in the gold rap funnel i rise
proceed to crack all ur wack flows
but my jungle traps close, while they mumble back under my size

[chorus: scribes]
it’s the silly mr. monster child
comin’ ‘illy with the rhythm as i launch the style
wantin’ cheese, but i really want the songs to change
it’s the soul on the top of the game, top, top of the game
it’s the silly mr. monster child
comin’ ‘illy with the rhythm as i launch the style
wantin’ cheese, but i really want the songs to change
it’s the soul on the top of the game, top, top of the game

[verse 2: jfk]
[?]

[chorus]
it’s the silly mr. monster child
comin’ ‘illy with the rhythm as i launch the style
wantin’ cheese, but i really want the songs to change
it’s the soul on the top of the game, top, top of the game
it’s the silly mr. monster child
comin’ ‘illy with the rhythm as i launch the style
wantin’ cheese, but i really want the songs to change
it’s the soul on the top of the game, top, top of the game

[bridge]
i said the devil he want my d-ck, he ain’t gone get it
(f-ck no, h-ll nah)
cuz any chick, who’d f-ck me quick, she’d be better off with it
(it’s okay, you can touch it)
i said my goodness, we’re goin’ to h-ll, are you b-tches comin’ with us
(you ridin’ with me? come on)
they’re sayin scribes, get off them ho’s, but i’m not finished
(uhuh, uhuh, uhuh)

[verse 3: scribes]
roll with the rap ho’s, industry a sufferin’ spell
written up nothin’, non-existent up in double-x-l
stuck on the shelves so my tale isn’t simple to sell
you build bars, but i slip thru like liquid in jail
i know there ain’t an end to all the sufferin’ i see
and i know that all or nothin’ ain’t enough to be free
so f-ck y’all, i’m gonna be a manic and flee
plan b… (i can see you, but can you see me)
you can view black hip-hop slash rap as black sabbath
drugs for the little kids, music for the crack addicts
i wrote this song for the foes who think i’m wack garbage
’cause even you’re beezy she’s sleepin’ with rap artists
your little woman, yo’ she’s followin’ size
i made the house wife holler with my b-lls on her eyes
sh-t, i popped my collar while on top of the beezy
yadadamean for sho’ (know what i mean for sheezy)

- scribes lyrics

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