Dope i gotcha
"Solarized"
....on a storm I perform/
Above these devils when I soar past the norm/
Ya block busters and ya babes of the porn/
This crop duster bout to raise up the corn/
That's maize in my palm, the eye of the needle/
Defy all the fire, the magpie and beetle/
Slide with the evil, been wise since a fetal/
Nothing's original it's always been sequels/
The flow hit the boiling point, bout to spill over/
The gas pops the top and ya deals over/
I got running backs, about to spark the pass/
Go deep in the zone where ya heart is at/
We throw you to the mat (Ma'at), hope you feather weight/
And throw you into black, so you can mediate/
I'm bout to set the date, im bout to set it off/
I'm bout to clean ya clock and knock the seconds off/
The snakes drive the bass into overdrive/
Flip the switch, shift positions till its solarized/
I'm a rolling stone I let the boulders fly/
Sledge hammer white pillars for this nose of mine/
Me fold ya space me fold ya time/
Me curve on wave lengths, watch how me flow on lines/
Blow ya mind, mental assassin stones in my ration/
I'm close like caption/
The ghost in the mansion dropping chandeliers/
To the checker board floor scratching veneer/
Don't know when I'm near might be on tiers/
( something metals gear need to write this 1 bar)
I'm a full metal jacket, I'm a jackal with the ratchet/
Dr Jekyll and mr Hyde back with a classic/
I'm back with a spin on a Dolphins fin/
Never cautious to sin or get lost in the wind/
Maybe you could say "Make a Solid Snake liquid with the Metal Gear". Those verses are fire though.
This is untitled
I control Galaxies, fukk an iPhone.
Politic to dimes grown from different time zones.
Guam to the Prime Meridian, keep em wet like they're amphibious.
Flex the language even on some silly shyt.
Champagne christenings, if I get a disc to move two hundred thousand.
But there's no bytches, drugs or guns around me, fukk who found me.
I know where I stand, channel bebop on post-modern beat bops.
Outside the normal market like a kiosk.
My form of laying low is swinging through the treetops.
Scouting where hyenas live while I can't be watched.
Flow on heat rocks, rage on Ice Cube.
Or drives to the cup like Michael, nobody tries what I do.
My Grammy nods might bloom, if not, I'm content.
Breaking the Garden's cycle of talking what nikkas might do.
I don't follow trends, but the threads of my idols.
Antiques to y'all, but I stand ten feet tall.
While you creep and crawl, multitude of flows, you can't beat them all.
When the prince becomes the beast and says, "fukk it I like it."
And starts bugging, drunken thumping with titans.
Dreams fukking subsiding into the land of Mr. Morningstar.
Knowing you don't trust women and you'll get bored with cars.
So you shake brothels and wield weapons forged to crush the Autobahn.
The stories leaves your mother mortified.
Fugutive in 49 government files.
While your classmates are paying taxes, fukking and dying.
Clutching a 9, recon trained by anarchists.
Assigned to hit developers, financial analysts.
Sparred with Alaskan grizzlies, so bullets ain't damaging.
And LG wonders why I'm opposed to camera clicks.
A multi-ethnic van of chicks scratch their wigs cause I ain't rent them.
bytch, I'm busy, placing lightning in your daddy's Bentley.
I have no star power, I just make massive killings.
My name changes with the seasons like the fashion business
