Melodic Brain Matter

Son got a twisted tongue the witches love Pull up on a rumba shoomzin Ay girl what up Verbal monsta Will never sell my soul to get on But I might project my lines on the presidents Teleprompter Pull up proper Spitting something sick Somebody get a doctor Hes Back at it again All in ya biz Like those meddling kids Turn the studio into a smoking session Smoldering messes getting left in the wake What can I say HOE! My styles It's excellent Sometimes I'm benevolent My bitch look like maleficent Your tracks actual excrement Shit you not Spit hook taw Like that lama you pushed too far What a quirky line Yea I'm a quirky guy quiet and shy Till you push the right button Bump your head on something Bump you at a red light Then light you up Like the Russians The albums coming don't rush it Rum and coke in my cup When I wrote this Roll one then rehearse it Run it back till it's perfect Payed for that session Just to embarrass you Fucking Worth it Grab my cordless called assorted Need a recording Stefan gon get it sorted out Sifting through files and sound bytes Fine tune till it sound just right Third porridge like Borderline Madman throwing a fit again Still Smart for a simpleton Flow cold as a winter wind Cause shock and awh Don't drop the ball recording with them Inform his next of kin Bud couldn't hack it Fell back in a forever nap When he surpassed his lungs capacity Moral of the story be Don't try matching this smoke I breath Eat sleep this Y'all follow on some sheep shit I follow sheep and eat it Wear the wool to trap the heat in Wear the skull for protecting what I believe in Brandish the femur fur bashing a heathen Mapping out the battlefield must be strategic Mixing mushrooms in the mead Swapping tales while the fire warms us Nodding to the beat of war drum You know this just a warm up