the palmer squares – sickamore cypher lyrics
[verse 1: ac-mental]
i hit the scene in ’88 like some dirty rotten scoundrels
broke all the ground rules
but what it boils down to is this
ya boy’s been getting hounded to spit to the crowd over sickamore sounds so we did
you can’t deny or repute our maniacal ways
keep it fly as a goose in the sky no debate
that i kinda been losing my mind as of late
kickin’ rhymes over loops that i find in the crate
or devising a ruse in the line at the bank
you’ll despise every move that i’m likely to make
’bout to tie up my shoes bottom ninth of the game
pop one high toward the iv and slide to the plate
riotous group satisfying your taste
like them chinamen do with some rice and an egg
i make it look easy as eleven times two and divided my seven (easy as pi!)
piece of cake
i be the greatest everybody know me at the bar
see me rolling in a car with khloe and lamar
or smoking a cigar with hugh heff at the mansion
record on blast baby everyone dancin’
we’re like royalty i’m talking tenanbaum status
people bend over backwards for these incredible rappers
heavy semantics compel ya to act since
the fact is that we keep it hot like welders and blacksmiths
the righteous leader with the fly groove fever
got rhyme schemes to motivate your high school speaker
maybe i’m too eager when it comes to this
riding to the river and releasing all the rumblefish
[verse 2: terminal knowledge]
now i ain’t known for propriety
more like social anxiety
the antidote is probably a dose of chlorpromazine
had a muse for the music
took notes from calliope
and wound up with the flow of poseidon’s sea
wandering alone in society
blowing smoke from the fire in me
you got no clue how high i be
i’m opposed to sobriety
out of my dome with the open palm
tryna hold the globe in entirety
now keep makin’ them superfluous claims
i be dispersing the slang that makes you burst into flames
you heard term was nice
well not specifically
bring the herbs and spices ‘cus i gots the recipe
my kitchen knives are used to chop off extremities
bob shot the sheriff and i shot the deputy
i’m down with murphy but god’s laws i disbelieve
just grabbing microphones to shout out obscenities
descriptive lines of imagery
topped off with trickery
so it’s hard not to think of me as contradictory
f-ck soda give me pop rocks and hennessy
hotbox the bentley gt on the kennedy
drive through the cloud with the ganja suspending me
hit the fog lights till i drop down to city streets
stop for chinese
wantons and sh-tty beef
i’m the one with the top notch delivery
in the majors while you bring your pom-poms to little league
either you bench warming or you black spots linguistically
a swan song soliloquy
i call my life’s thesis
doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons like
jesus
i’m outta breath with it
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