MC-X (feat. Goodmoney G100, Prvrb & Detroit's Ron Foss)

This is the future, where we draft Men to fight fires, They work alongside 2 dolla an hour Prisoners for hire Turn me on No turn me off They got my fans hummin', money Always on my mind, Chrome got shine worth more than An hour a dime, picture this, It's the aftermath of the collapse, got Gaps, perhaps My synapse doesn't have an act, Masked opps, adapt F*ck what you heard and don't get Burned Only place to go is the edge of no Return Greet me at the door by my Government name, MC-X nice to Meet ya Glad to know ya, take a seat, we're, Getting to the crux of this evening's Procedure Brothers underwater like the TAT-8, A masquerade cascades in the Pathway Muddy waters in the fast lane Dirty Ponys, pass the ashtray Before we got to picketin', Bozos got a Pinkerton, this is gettin' Outtahand With sufficient thrust, it seems pigs Fly just fine Dangerous sitting under them, hard To know where things might land, I know sadists that leave masochists Alone People group folks into two Categories, other folks don't I saw them march off the line, Disassemble off my crime, I am the giant sucking sound you Hear, machine so sleek and benign, Catch up with the times, don't fall Behind, They'll blow you to dust, ignited Resins leave cadavers brittle, Doctors around but this ain't that Kind of hospital Sleep's addictive, causes visions, loss Of consciousness, The mere sign of withdrawal and One is highly irritable Giving everything I have left in me Vidi vici veni tell me if you feel me The world been had me blown Running on empty on my way to the Throne I'mma roll this die and say goodbye 404 I'm goin' blue screen tonight