What the deal Nasa? Touching yourself
Uh, 1-2, what
Def Jukies, stabbing bitches in the nookie like, what
Don't make me bite ya face (come on)
'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste
It's more of a psychological thing
My heart pace'll never change
But your cabbage'll get rearranged
And I don't even pack no gat
I'd rather run up on you and your crew with a Great Adventure bat
And when the deed's done it goes up the sleeve
And when the one time comes I'll be in the breeze
You may be different, but you're a poetic front
The difference between us is that we say what we want (suckers)
Especially after we light the blunt
Some of us like to pull cards, I pull stunts
I broke up with my ex on some bachelor shit (why?)
Now I'm killin two birds with the same dick
And isn't it ironic? Don't ya think?
The same cat that left the mic smokin, left the man of steel's
Back broken
Chillin with Lois Lane, and she's open
Cause I could suck a cookie out a p***y when it's soaking
Chick bit my head off, but the ass was magic
Should've seen the tattoo on her back of a praying mantis
Clutched my chest like Fred Sanford
And splashed her crack on some man shit
Now baby girl's amped, trying to walk on both hands backwards
Moaning ""Fantastic Damage"" with her grill sunk in the mattress
(that's my language)
Rode at insane angles, all tangled up and damaged
Star spangled mangler fuckbot add a money shot
Hit her in the shitter I'm in it with, K-Y liquid and
Double kitchen gloves, love's lovin it
Comfortable naked and takes it like a patriot
I'm wearin a dookie rope and some oven mitts!
Suck clits like Vast Aire Vs. mother reminder
And that's my b-boy alpha numeric vagina diner amalgam
Chick screamed so loud I could hear it on my last album!
(on info kill)
And smell her in the shower
While we fucked to Chill Rob G's version of 'I've got the Power'
It's getting kinda hectic
The house pets seem alert and confused
And the neighbors leaving messages
Get on your stomach and I'll plug you in all your entrances
And one exit
Whispering quotes from The Tempest
Dr. Hellno, (oh yes I did)
With a surgical scrub on a baby arm inserted from fist to elbow
I drank her bath water in a shot glass
Then ran my tongue up the crack of her ass
Til our future children hatched
The mushrooms had me seeing some sort of deep organic math
On some primal altered state s*x, I felt connected to the past
Collapse, nasty, wet, wept into her neck
Suckling on her swollen nipples
Then I drifted into REM
Where I dreamt of little bouncing cherubs
With clit rings and s*xy woodnymphs
And crotchless liederhosen begging to get bent
Don't make me bite ya face
'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste
It's more of a psychological thing
My heart pace'll never change
But your cabbage'll get rearranged
Don't make me bite ya face (your face)
'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste (the taste)
It's more of a psychological thing
My heart pace'll never change (suckerrrrrrs)
But your cabbage'll get rearranged
I usually, bust raps for fun
And if six was nine, I'd probably bust a machine gun (he's got a gun!)
Niggas hate me
Cause I scribbled the Cold Vein, ice grilled Medusa and I'm stone free
Well actually I was purple hazed, chewin' on lasers
Froze in a Hendrix maze
Look at these sloppy cats
With they copied raps
Our shit is too hard to study
Ox is brilliant, our yin is colorful, but our yang is muddy
And if you ever thought you had one up on me
That had to be a projection from R2D2 (Artoo!)
Cause I am not see through
I'm more like, you cross the line and I'll see you
In intensive...
You think I care if your titties are sensitive?
Niggas beware!
Don't make me bite ya face (face)
'Cuz it ain't like I like the taste (the taste)
It's more of a psychological thing
My heart pace'll never change
But your cabbage'll get rearranged
Rearranged, ranged, ranged ranged
Rearranged, ranged ranged ranged
Motherfuckers look strange
Yeah.. Cannibal O, will, handle you slow
What, Def Jux
Once again
File that in your ""This must be underground!"" Category
Hey, why don't you write a review, of my ass?
---
Dr. Hellno & The Praying Mantus - El-P
