Inner Ear Infection
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 5:46 am
[video]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RL3glGNPAxs[/video]
Funny....I can't hear anything....? say what?
Shaken not slurred, as I stir up this shit hole
I writ poems, that'll get holmes thinkin they sherlock
slurp shots from this burnt pot full of these ashes
bashin' heads, clashin' with the racists and fashionettes
sip doses of cold medicine, hold pensions and flash some techs
it's a technical, festival? feast your eyes on rappings best
taking heads of these bitches, call them Marie Antoinette
I'm bad with vet's I hate em but I still like to have them friends
they try to scrutinize my flow, but I don't even ask for that
I'm back to facts, let me recite the thought thats dwelling
the ego that is now swelling, after my French line is now unveiling
I don't need to keep a basis, when the bases are full at home
I'm a bull and thrown, but none of you will dare tug, or pull my horns
for I will, impale you, drink from the pipes in the bag
I know if my history is correct, I'll have you frightened, I'm Vlad
and bad with my words, but I keep em movin' at a portioned pace
till I rip it like the supportin' tape at the finish line, coordinate
your feelings cuz the orangest plate, will get thrown like frisbee
dare you diss me, ill or illigitimately, I will proceed to diss he
for he is which me, isn't quit ignant is he? well maybe so
maybe not, so get your lazy bones put back in the bag
thrown in the back of the lac and now it's the fact your back
so these words seem to be flowing seamlessly or seem less see
or seamed less neat then the threads that just seem to be
written by a seamstress you seems stressed over seams and see's
the sea's that freeze over time and I don't know I'm goin' over time
flowin' over lines that are played over your boulder of older rhymes
I know it's time I should stop but look at these horrendous times
where foolish rhymers get away with something so idiotic
so my flows aquatic, till I rock the boat and your own flows is nauseous
I will not go, or stop it, so go to the office and print some paper
get it written in print and say ya, is ready for the return, get a razor
and slit your, "hey sir" "excuse me" "pardon me" well this is hardly
the time to be bothering, cuz I'm tryna execute these rhymers "talk to me"
I took my people from sovereignty to a nation where Islams would speak
of jumpin' with no harness with a bomb attached to their arms and knees
waiting to blow over these harmless teens so exuse me and pardon me
the bomb I be, is suicidal, and I really really, need to say this "STOP IT PLEASE"
Funny....I can't hear anything....? say what?
Shaken not slurred, as I stir up this shit hole
I writ poems, that'll get holmes thinkin they sherlock
slurp shots from this burnt pot full of these ashes
bashin' heads, clashin' with the racists and fashionettes
sip doses of cold medicine, hold pensions and flash some techs
it's a technical, festival? feast your eyes on rappings best
taking heads of these bitches, call them Marie Antoinette
I'm bad with vet's I hate em but I still like to have them friends
they try to scrutinize my flow, but I don't even ask for that
I'm back to facts, let me recite the thought thats dwelling
the ego that is now swelling, after my French line is now unveiling
I don't need to keep a basis, when the bases are full at home
I'm a bull and thrown, but none of you will dare tug, or pull my horns
for I will, impale you, drink from the pipes in the bag
I know if my history is correct, I'll have you frightened, I'm Vlad
and bad with my words, but I keep em movin' at a portioned pace
till I rip it like the supportin' tape at the finish line, coordinate
your feelings cuz the orangest plate, will get thrown like frisbee
dare you diss me, ill or illigitimately, I will proceed to diss he
for he is which me, isn't quit ignant is he? well maybe so
maybe not, so get your lazy bones put back in the bag
thrown in the back of the lac and now it's the fact your back
so these words seem to be flowing seamlessly or seem less see
or seamed less neat then the threads that just seem to be
written by a seamstress you seems stressed over seams and see's
the sea's that freeze over time and I don't know I'm goin' over time
flowin' over lines that are played over your boulder of older rhymes
I know it's time I should stop but look at these horrendous times
where foolish rhymers get away with something so idiotic
so my flows aquatic, till I rock the boat and your own flows is nauseous
I will not go, or stop it, so go to the office and print some paper
get it written in print and say ya, is ready for the return, get a razor
and slit your, "hey sir" "excuse me" "pardon me" well this is hardly
the time to be bothering, cuz I'm tryna execute these rhymers "talk to me"
I took my people from sovereignty to a nation where Islams would speak
of jumpin' with no harness with a bomb attached to their arms and knees
waiting to blow over these harmless teens so exuse me and pardon me
the bomb I be, is suicidal, and I really really, need to say this "STOP IT PLEASE"