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[verse 1: waahli]
(yo, ha, yo, yo)
it’s the arrival of the caravan
touchscreen… shazam!
i’m looking super dapper
plus i’m more than just a rapper
watch me pause like a comma
(shouting breaker 1-9…)
you’ve got smokey on your tail
tell the kid, “that’s the breaks”
erase your face with a paper chase
hood policy bless the cityscapes (ah!)
never placid like the lake
we went from backaches to standing straight
it’s time to spot the polyglot
will erupt nomadic m-ssive on your clock (bruh)

[bridge: non genetic ]
punks jump up
bad boys move in silence
we don’t get angry we just get violent
money don’t make me or break me, but don’t mistake me
yo
f-ck you pay me
my word, my b-lls never break them better believe it
i say things once then let my gun repeat it
the hunt is on forget about da season
loyalty number one
loose lips is treason

[verse 2: pigeon john]
20 in the tank, i know what i really ain’t
white stripes made of paint leading me out of state
open road rage, let the kid out the cage
time to flip the new page and it works at any age
i’m a bring the ss out
donuts in the desert
god at the rest stop, rest stop
i’m a let him drive use the force skywalk
people talk let them i’m a skylark so why park?
gravity called i didn’t answer at all
surname’s dust got nowhere to fall
my chevy and some god d-mn pancakes
100 grand traded with a simple handshake
i let it go let ’em rattle i know that snakes tattle
so i grabbed my paddle and moved upstate
i took the whole dang cattle and the trophy on the mantle
all i handled and dumped it the great lakes

[bridge: non genetic ]
never stop fightin’ till the fighting is done
till the last man’s standing and you know who won
i k!ll more with a few words than you can with gun
so bring a lot of ammo so you don’t have to run
never stop fightin’ till the fightin’ is done
till the last man’s standing and you know who won
i k!ll more with a few words than you can with gun
so bring a lot of ammo so you don’t have to run

[verse 3: asm (a state of mind) ]
with the speed of comet, i hurl liters of murderous word vomit
on top of this here beat it’s the mark of the mad g*nius
feeds the competition nothing but the hard…
(yo) cold dose, 3 ccs of reality, stat
face the mirror, crumble at your own lack of abilities
too many mcs cramp up the cipher
like they’re giving peeps free dilla beats
c’est la vie, mon ami
that’s why i need a ton of weed
to drown out this onslaught of wannabes that follow me
word is bond like sean connery
born to shape the youths of today like it’s pottery
the honesty seeping through the pores
sleep speaking on the shores, multi-lingual thesaurus
forrest gumping through life and thumping your wife, twice
cooler than a bucket of ice
splice the mainbrace and p-ss it on to the right
type nice when we birth rhymes

burst time with the first line
use the ensuing confusion inflicting numerous contusions
of the frontal lobe.. center of balance thrown askew
b-mp wu, from dub speaker rack blast distraction the
last master craftsman brew, with artisans in japan
battle scars like partisans in iran
i saw a man extend his hand to the grand design
clutching at shadows. puppet of the pantomime
an amplified gib-son sixty-one and rip drums
to raw shreds and flesh colored lumps son
strict -n-log demagogue sorry dog
you could hardly spar if this was volleyball
i’m robert duvall, i’m marlon brando, i’m harlem hendo
old timer farming endo
secretly… feed you your own semen intravenously remove your spleen and feed that to your grandma with her evening tea
enjoy the scenery
while i stab you repeatedly beneath the trees

[verse 4: yousthstar]
yo mans a rap addict
i ain’t kicking this rhyme habit (oh)
i’m back at it to bat it with bad attitude rackets
here to cause static the bars are on automatic
i’m shooting of this planet with smokey joe and the kid
(suck it)
you f-cking maggots are b-m bandits
i’ve had it with your waste man status
trying to act like you’re the worst but you’re phony
i’ll still f-ck your corpse in the morgue
it’s mister necrophiliac
i’ll treat your soul as my whore (b-tch!)
i got an itch in my pants and it’s for your wifey
i’ll bend the slut over and go pro with the pov
so what she sees in me is semen out my penis, g
and all of this be happening in your lodge while you be rapping, b
the fact we see that you’re wack
your style smells like an -ss crack
so f-ck it you can take that shit, backpack
cause i ain’t having that
hearing you trying to bust a rap on this track
i’ll attack with a back to back
back to back, back to back
back to back, back to back
back to back, back to back smacks

[verse 5: blake worrell]
this rhyme sk!llet
i heat it and fry lyrics
to the point that i might finish
ya quicker than one minute
so listen
cause i’m in the business stirrin’ up all this incredible heat
cookin’ up things to makin’ think you ain’t nothin’ in this game of rap kings like me
that’s right, you visiting my kingdom
you a sheep in the heap of weak ones roamin’ the land of the dead look here’s an example of what i do to those the ones
who talk too much mess
whu-whu-whu-what? ple-ple-please! don’t, i didn’t!
shut up!
i pull the tongue out with a wrench and a pair of clips
let it dry for a few days then i’m back with some scissors
so big that i have to rip the jaw off to slice it
life of all-star k!ller (thriller)
it’s all over, it’s all over

[verse 6: mc miscellaneous]
just in case you missed the name well it’s
mr. dangerous, a.k.a miscellaneous
kids claim that i’m lame, dumb f-ck, correction:
i’ve got bars off the chain like a nunchuck collection
punches on deck, i ain’t feeling your reaches
i bring the heat and pile up bodies like tunisian beaches
lyrical g*nius: that’s my f-cking mind frame
beep, beep, beep, beep! now get the f-ck out my lane!
you suck, you guys lame, you gimme such a migraine
i’ma shove my pen up my nose ’til it touches my brain
b-tch you can’t live. i’m finna split your d-mn wig
and treat you like a jew that just found hitler’s grandkid
k!ll your fam, affiliates and any fan that’s feeling ya
you nothing but f-cking shit – rapping scatophilia
a pit scr-pping with kittens, you cats inferior
move, pussy! ’cause i don’t wanna catch chlamydia

[bridge: samples]
(ladies and gentlemen!)
(are, are, are you ready?)
(are you ready?)
(are you ready?)
(lights, cameras, action!)
(let’s go)

(let’s go)

(i’m coming through it)

[outro: blake worrell]
good night
sleep tight
don’t let the bed bugs bite
’cause we comin’ to get ya’
ha ha

- smokey joe the kid lyrics

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