I say Lord.. Have Mercy.
|
|
I say...
|
|
Stop! Hey, what's that sound?
|
Everybody look what's goin' down.
|
|
I'm Everlastin'.
|
Forever on a roll
|
I'm rockin' to the boat,
|
Steamin' gray matter tone.
|
I ain't sayin' I'm God, but you can graft this.
|
Chances are if I'm a star, I'd be Johnny Mathis.
|
On some smooth s**t, I'd be gaming all the honeys.
|
Hitting Hugh Hefner with his Playboy Bunnies.
|
Check the Sunday funnies, I be reading Doonesbury.
|
See me after dark, love, s**t be getting scary.
|
I'll freak you
|
Like Carrie on the night of the prom
|
Let's keep it
|
Cool and calm
|
I'll start stroking your palm.
|
Work my way up your arm,
|
And start kissing your ear.
|
Maybe licking your lips, then pulling your hair.
|
Yeah I freak the back spasm, to get the *****.
|
And if my legs cramp, girl, I lick that stamp
|
I got it sewn, love
|
So you ain't got no worries.
|
Hold up, wait a second.
|
My vision's getting blurry.
|
|
Stop. Hey.
|
What's that smell?
|
Someone laced dust all up in my L.
|
B****es start sweatin' once the pockets swell.
|
Let's take it back 14,000,000 cells.
|
|
Periodic measures
|
To say my rhymes.
|
Too much of this dope
|
Need growth-type slow
|
Of a poet's tree, let me blow my leaves
|
Shake off my roots and pull up my sleeves.
|
Break a branchling wist stick.
|
Lyrics for the mystical.
|
Yo fancy, shake your chancy.
|
Our transystem is torn MCs
|
I hymn-zen, then I'm casualies.
|
Pot smoke-seeds, relativities
|
Seize it, I be
|
On every first ability
|
Of chaos, a higher form of infinity
|
Gettin' me virtually supreme ID.
|
Perfecters and tackers
|
At which my faster phrased words
|
Super-lax, break raps, and mc's jump off wacks.
|
Revolves and steers,
|
And still sees time stilt.
|
I work for Real Bill Divine, it's lyrical chill.
|
|
I say...
|
Stop! Hey! What's that smell....etc.
|
|
-----------------
|
What's That Smell?
|
House Of Pain |