[Opio]
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Say what,
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never under pressure,
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stress free we shock the mic,
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you don't impress me.
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I live the life of an mc no pretending,
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Souls Of Mischief rock tha house.
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So baby spread your wings now,
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and let me come on in,
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show you right from wrong you wanna do it again.
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Release all that pinned up aggression
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come caress and massage my dick, baby
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it's not a maraudin' stick.
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Damn right Hieroglyphics for life.
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Close knit while these others crews fight we write hits,
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as for us settlin'
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discrepancies with other mc's, it's a breeze.
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Cause I stay focused while they frustrated.
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Ease off the mic,
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don't cause a ruckus
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it's destructive,
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unproductive,
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see us we keep in touch with the one's that bite,
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yah some write to dis,
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but it's a miss match I guess
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I attract the wack backstage.
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We wage battles and leave em unscathed.
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[Phesto]
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It's Phesto, in stereo,
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Souls Of Mischief don't stop, don't quit.
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To everybody in the O, Hiero...
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glyphics rollers imperially equipped to eclipse,
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and overshadow the best with no stress just,
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the mic conceit.
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With my limits boundless,
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countless
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plus my prowess psychedelic funk
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for the female folk who wanna get into some mischief,
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submissive like I got em drunk,
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and I got em junked,
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with they knees hyperextended, weakened,
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speaking in tongues like a ventriloquist,
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until I quit,
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while these niggaz oversaturated with exaggerated nonsense,
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I don't respond simp.
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They just punks beyond dips.
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Infatuated with they lyrics never corespondent.
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I guess it never dawned on em
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that they don't belong on the mic like
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germs, I like to watch them squirm,
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convincin' me they styles
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anything more then elementary, but spermacidal
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is the title they've earned.
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[A-plus]
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I'm comin' from the land of dope,
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where all of these niggaz never planned to hope.
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You can either be the man to know,
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but my plan was writin' hella raw.
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Standing quiet cause I be the man ya like,
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to hand the mic,
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so I can make a dollar, and make ya holler.
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I never fake a scholar
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dumpin' rappers in a lake of water.
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I proceed to max,
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be pagin' Leed if I need the sacs,
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get the weed relax.
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In the O we knowin' where you at,
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be in the cut if you scared of them gats,
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cause Oakland niggaz be prepared to jack shit.
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I make my mail so I don't have to run that broke skid.
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Some niggaz serve rocks at spots and get shot, over knots to clock
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but yo I rock the spot.
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Hah... with that soul shit,
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I smoke a quarter and flow swift.
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[Tajai]
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Now phuck that [queen low]?.
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I'm talkin' half sips to the heads,
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lit's have a meeting of the minds
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nobodies leavin' till we all red.
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Went to the jam, we caravan to see an excitin' site to see,
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the music inside invitin' me
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to rip the mic if need be,
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but you know it's important that I pull the women with the jewels
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glistenin'... Whoo
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Only I can get the fly sister rumps to switch up,
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with a swisher sittin' on trompe.
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[ ? ], You niggaz step in hap hazard,
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to the stage was center T to the A's up in the zone solo,
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bitch niggaz should've thrown bolos,
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but you mist em,
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now even your miss is listed.
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I feel the jealous stares stuck at my back,
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ut don't drop the microphone until I feel I fully did that.
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Damn,
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who these kids that come to every single show,
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and always wanna pull they Roscoes instead of hoes.
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You better grow up I'm with niggaz you don't know I'm with,
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so just dole out with all that dumb shit.
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The Souls Of Mischief click down with Hieroglyphics.
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-----------------
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Ya Don't Stop
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| Souls of Mischief |
