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letra de final thought - molemen

molemen ft. vak!ll – “final thought”
[emcee(s): vak!ll]
[producer(s): panik]
[scratches: mixx massacre]

[verse 1: vak!ll]
looking at my gucci, it’s about that time when i check hoes
stomp holes in n-ggas so deep, they’ll be rhyming in echoes
(in echoes) deep as the grave in rhyme when i’m engraving lines
don’t try to act brave and shine, save that for f-cking daylight savings time. i’m
the sh-t as a whole, no need for n-ggas to wanna know the half
i go to grab the mics when i throw the gab at emcees with the wrong
flow to have and unholy now. f-ck, blow the crab out the frame
but, luckily, half of you b-tches hardly ever make it to the photo lab
international, a ghetto celeb type. what i write [?]
[?] without a website internet [?]
[?] when you claiming rap pages in source, nikes
throwing their ass a bandage, and i’ll probably force christ on a cross twice
vak!ll the boogeyman (n-gga), [?] when i squeeze m-i-cs
your whole f-cking family dressed in black like the m.i.b.s
in my jurisdiction, not only will i severely injure his diction
but commence to slap kids the f-ck back like a pez candy dispenser
smoke an author’s ass to ash/ashe like arthur’s last name, mayne
with more drunken fist techniques than an alcoholic abusive father has
f-ck you thought? save that before surgeons be getting costly
why spit flows when men are pausing? like rented cars, it’s p-ssy enough
to leave even the most masculine n-gga menopausing, so f-ck throwing in the towel
with that style, throw in your whole motherf-cking linen closet
y’all verbally b-tton-wet, n-gga [?]
‘cause if i was to cum on your eye right now, n-gga, you still ain’t see nutting/nothing yet
not a sudden threat, this a full-scale, whole assault, and since y’all running
out of ideas, then here’s one: think about my nuts and hold that thought
[verse 2: vak!ll]
i was told it ain’t
how fat the rhyme is but the billfold from a half a mill’ sold
and n-ggas on new york nuts with raps when any size or sk!ll show
not what you was popping less than a year ago when your ass
was putting out records, campaigning ‘bout keeping it real and lyrical
hypocritical ass, typical trash you produced, they gassed you up
since you finally made a record that sold at critical mass. b-tch, please
f-ck you and your missed marks ‘cause y’all not only on east and west coasts’
d-ck soft. y’all n-ggas getting it up the nose like tricks’ sores, so
stop manning your stations ‘cause the cannon you’re facing’s a verbal
gun-clapper about to give y’all ass a standing ovation
why in the f-ck these overnight [?]
‘cause they started making tracks with keyboards instead of piano loops
and nothing decent’s been coming from out their ass since. in the last
tenths of a milliseconds, sh-t that they thought was next was past-tense
and none of that sh-t you find incredible stun me
wetting your ass with flows sweeter than diabetic f-gs sporting edible undies
so expect it ‘cause y’all were selected to die hectic
deaf dialectic, i never let bullsh-t slide even if it’s electric
your whole dilemma’s facing elimination, riding the next
n-gga d-ck, trying to take credit for artificial insemination
cheap imitation, buy your generic sh-t, but i’m more
than capable of getting in n-ggas’ asses with a biogenetic fit and then
running up in their slimmies’ colons, breaking these kids’ flows
like semicolons, no question i could halve any f-cking opposition. y’all
see me holding my d-ck and scr-t-m. after i kick [?]
it comes to sk!ll, watch your fast b-tch-ass copping some steel
and rapid ducks bleed at rabbit-f-ck speed, vocab that succeeds
and bust a nut while all these wack-ass n-ggas swallow and suck seed
read the fine print. if you’re like me, the alignment’s done torn out
p-ssies in ways unimaginable, left running v-g-n-l flow, so
this is a full-blood assault, n-ggas that wasn’t so b-tter cough
(“say something now”) yeah, n-gga, that’s what i thought

- molemen

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