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letra de crew cut - mood cru

[handamonium]

categorically antagagoric
can ya respect this chex?
we’re pourin’ wheaty heat, minus the flex
stop, hit the respec, soldier rhymes flippin’ up to
super lu crimes, every time skate shreked (4 bars)
an usha ‘memberin’ rick’s shmecks
the chronomadic addicts, livein’ lippies repeat that
replete tact, till ya get my beak in the sheet wrapped
we flippin’ n zippin’ n j-zzin’ n pinnin’ the tweets what i flit past
[stop]
mastin gastas, sailin’ sans a rasta, still i’m lashin’ scansion fasta
gashin’ you got a, e, i, i aight?
why i owe u the stress? know i ain’t out to impress
i pen the phlem to digest, you nod ya noggin ta jest
abused the dex for a sin, the juan winds
jettin’ smoke outta the hymns ya diddled greenery in
you sniffin’ testaments to toonin’ again? well amen
cut din, prop doom, knick a bocka, and friends

[moud-e]

uh, what flavor do you want, wallow or the widow
willows winnow at the sills of windows, uhhh
keep it simple, will ya? syllables symbolize essential lies to turn a tide benign
a wide rhyme writhes as them bars rise high, rabble rousin keeps a prison guards eye
foucault’s panoptic hive scurries all to bake a pie, liable to die if you taste the inside dime
a kind, miss do you need a ride? uber mentioned the last man sighed and sat
lateral life, radical freedom at last, how absurd that a stranger got g-ssed by an act
why do rap? existential laundry with a wrap of nihilistic softener to brace the blast
for a laugh bout a batty past riddled with more jokes than tact, i mean, whatchu want more than that?

[kaydus]

heartless queens love guillotines, scarlet dreams march heresy
i’d bruit thee, et tu iblis. toke twenty three sparrows to carry me
where the weirwood weep, al-khidir perceives whose past repeats
the path between attack and peace, a trail of ink tears at the seams
beware the scene

seems stringed swords sing for faux kings
apropos sirens sewn, so the storm brings
syc-o-phants, sicka bein fans wanna k!ll a bigga stan
it’s you that they eye-ing

two tyrants in a tide. washed aside
for cleaner lies, justified turn just defied
ivory stay on the rise, carve an idol, idle minds
will guard thy gaud, till gardens die

- mood cru

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