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Old 08-10-03, 07:37 AM   #1
B(V)U$3
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Just Gold ( No Beat Needed)

IP:

verbal vernacular, rhyme writing spectacular

locked on to the track when I see your girl I’m coming after her

sure to secure the lure when I make your pussy purr

tossed into the cold listening to the cure left spitting in burrs

always shaken and stirred spurred up trouble calling her sir

left your mom tossing up shit now she’s just jerkin manure

pure is the quality liking your girl rocking on top of me

copping and jocking my lines when your third eye is blinded optically

fiber optically stalking my every move mocking my drop and swing

Talking slings in shopping sprees when your mom wont stop calling me

turning on caller id so the old b wont hassle me

when I’m working on making things click with air tight locked fastenings

out lasting, surpassing the masked man who masking

his lacking of skills and you wonder why he is asking me

tasking the temples wishing it all was just so simple

popping problems like pimples wearing a face full of dimples

crimpled up collars playing dice games for dollars

hearing just one fuck say holler, I’m buying a gun and playing his father

call her she'll just be honest about the last time she was on it

compared me to a Greek god while she said you resembled a hobbit

Now you got it, the tonic mixed in fusion bionics

taking out another eye when you want it

now your style is just cycloptic.

Hearing the clock tick seconds split between tricks,

ripping so sick for old kicks watching the jaws slack on theses hicks

Got my fix from this spit splitting my words with theses hits

punching my self with self help kits till i stop having these fits

fit to mesh in with society hiding idly in my sobriety

finding the words inside of me till i deserve the right to be

be me it was seen but the crystal ball wasn’t so clean

so i kick myself in the spleen like and outtake from mean machine

Member of the A team, kicked out when i was dealing for the cream

so now I’m creating schemes alone with my pockets down to the seems

Streaming my screams in succession, messing in a time honored profession

ignoring every suggestion and dismissing annoying questions

Split into sections mix the message with lies till it lessens

The lessons taught by your gods creating meaningless confessions

Menacing in personal matters against the panes while windows shatter

Smashing flesh against jagged glass till the blood shoots out in splatters

Tatters are grafted with grey matter your mom is back asking the matter

But your voice is missing at the moment caught with the roaches lost in the scatter

I’m the mad hatter, mangely deranged with limited use of my own brain

Insane in the membrane and detained to the squared plane of this gravy train

Working on main street for change, named to be maimed on the open range

Reformed back to a state that is tame knowing deep down that ill never change

I am the same, the same name in a stupid game

Where I shoot at the stars for fame and end up in the mud with my shame

Call me lame and your ling defying the words people are crying

Holding up signs scrapping and buying my cds like they were gold mining

This timing is perfect miming my style watching you work it

Just like your mom trying to jerk it, beat me in battle then you deserve it


IM OUT!
FUCK



AUDIO

LO FI

HI FI
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