"So fuck, so fuck... the commercial tracks you be doin
A brother got to eat. Why don't you rap for food then."
♪
The music makes me high
Even though I stay away from canibus, like Wyclef
(Deacon and Kno, fry sets)
Similar to Christ (we got divine reps so tell me)
If you know your gonna die (why step?)
Show no mercy (For rules and crews)
You hit with more bricks than new?
(Riddles confusing fools) Like Confucian rules
('Cause most cats are more squared than Rubik's Cubes)
We spit raps that are totally murderous
(The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch)
So check out how these herbs get touched
(Unless your broads giving us brains)
Nigga you ain't servin us
(Deacon and Kno) Cunning lynguists with stunning English
(Our true lies bring more pumps) Than Harry Rehnquist
(Every week) With the best speech
Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the flash and burn techniques
(Sex, beats, between bed sheets)
Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style (leaving your car with red seats)
We make like fly swatters and smash pests
(Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set)
Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test
(Ink blots) So fuck around and get your team rocked
(Jugga's in the back with the beam cocked)
Gots to have everything between L.A. and Queens locked
Uh huh, word, uh huh word, yo yo, check it out
Cunninlynguists, know what I'm saying?
You know how we do
I mean, you probably don't know how we do
But you're about to find out
Like wha, like wha...