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letra de shark fin soup - armand hammer

[elucid]
got fireworks going on outside
roman candle to the face
home is a place inside myself, not a physical domicile
love, hate, indifference, in this sp-ce we all float around
china doll crystalline, financiers and cappuccino raw cinnamon
lines drawn i fill em in
illin since rubin and simmons splitting sicilians
unlikely affiliates lemme tell you how it really is
living off experience
closet reptilian b-tches be my achilles
earth girls easy though mostly inferior
turning brilliant corners, pitching quarters
put ya money on it
i break em down in installments
periodicals and volumes h–rded
my footsteps haunted
dead mans ballys i’m sporting
flawless
georgia red clay complected/crossroads
gatekeeper posted at the intersection
coined flows to keep it interesting
my pen arresting
apex predator sole profession
they vexed
stunted developments
20 year cycles
raw deal no embellishment
im a young old n-gg- tryna remain relevant
core elements
chalk it up to my heritage
they stare incredulous
tryna get the scoop like pelicans
you jv n-gg-s better off pouring beverages
kick my feet up ‘fore im settled in

[hook x2]
pump tapes out the trunk
too short
the product sell itself like newport
or al sharp/thats new york
the soup shark
dumplings pork
mott street noodles out the mouth when i talk

[woods]
last call, she poured mine on the house
december 25th, he’s the grinch, i’m oscar the grouch
magic 8-ball, “all signs point to no”
chasing waterfalls, his grand summation
“the b-tch is a hoe”
what does one say to that?
i sipped the yip with thoughts black
a bad trip like you gotta take the bus back
wishing he never f-cked with it like crack
but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride
and i wouldn’t be here nursing this sucker
thinking bout getting high, motherf-cker
if you nice like that then you better do it live
dusty loop/heavy bag drums
i’m not from brownsville
so never had a problem when it came time to run

rabbi and the golem
base clay left to harden in the sun
mobutu sese seko
k!ll em all without touching a gun
house made of legos
throw all the stones you want
play the wall like they playin techno
regs in a phillie blunt
slaughter rule/chop the heads off fools who refuse to punt
duel with the beat
words measured then cut with teeth
unspooled into the city’s last payphone
a young larry merchant, perched
on the ball of my feet

[hook]

- armand hammer

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