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letra de mission 01 - dead phone dummiez

i put
different amounts of chloroform
in my pores to form
the toughest skin…
i love the burn & love to sin…
i love my momma too tho
normally say, i’m an anomally today
i live on a satellite, khaelo control the day
toombsy’s aimin the death ray
talk about all but my name when i say
i capitalize, big politicians
wishin prescriptions
numbin the dumbest of lies
they tellin the people is wise
not 1 in a million, 1 in 7.25 billion technically
rasheed of my team
been a blazer, diff is i’m piffin it publicly
f-ck that, i’m the only one ever
hablo espanol cuando quiero
ir lietuviskai, please…
respect the, young bruce lee of rapanese
shapin into situation, takin the form of water
check the flow
simply simplify, definitely redefine the term
‘spit & we shine,’
&, i could give a f-ck….. nah..
i like givin enlightenment instead
light meant to bent
it’s said that’s all that we are
good luck, rappin your head around any rap
that i had made in my head with the help of my jar
it’s mr. fantastic, stretchin the rap sh-t
tryna find chemical balance for all
my talents are tall
an eagle with eagerness stickin my talons in yall
amongst the fungus learn a monk
i’d rather battle with some dungus, done with dunces
never had timbs but in my nike dunks
i might be dunkin
jacked the might outta that sentence pumpkin
dumpin all my seeds to put lanterns up in the luncheoun
bringin the light to those who seein nothin
you can’t beat the peeps who see this art is war
i need more, like a veggie eating carnivore
cognac, like the aspirations of the homeless
room temp, n0body likes to live in the weather
if you ever want to see your kids again, get in a shelter
3 eyes in my storm
1 song from the righteous minds belongs in costco
it’s lyrical bulk
they probably properly bump it
on all of the properties on planet hulk
i couldn’t’ve planned it more dope
then i od’d, yea d-o-b straight up odb’s the sh-tuation
sit ya -ss & learn some patience, fore’ i make ya patient
waitin for some treatment, what this tree meant for?
plant my side, t-r-i-b-e, sprout the earth then leave
category: war. mental pour
4. thousand degree lava in ya pores
i leave ya sore, while i’m soaring
touring, doing shows, just to show my soul
music is compiled of piles of vile bile that my tribe annihilate
fix the hate or b-tch-ssphyxiate
and get eaten, while i pile my plate
fake -ss rappers

- dead phone dummiez

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