me, I fall short, still it hits me swift I didn't have to see, I coulda hit the lick I coulda drifted it quick, I coulda quit so quick It's really a trip
in frame and canvas just for the cameras when we are awake we sing "never... ever" this is where you must make up your mind should beauty be design
masturbates Nobody can hold me back, my flow bloviates into a spiritual shape A capsule in Space, no emcee could rhyme like this, there's no challenge His Poet Laureate should
Angeles [Chorus] [V2: TONEDEFF] Tone turns caked nig|gas to professional pie catchers High Action, I'm apt to put in more legwork than a thigh master I finally figured how you could
it should And the sun was burning blisters in my back Their permanence we couldn't ask It was done floating weightless on attack I was sinking slow could not
Pel's True to the shine on his bone Somebody beatin up the block on fresh rider rims If it's me hell, you can tell by the design on the chrome Crying