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letra de iconoclasym - nalyd

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[verse 1]
iconoclasmic magic nalyd ecitsuj who is that it just sounds like a f-ggot
how could i battle all these ratchets with nothing but a ratchet and a crescent wrench
trying to choke out a b-tch with a maggot for a turnaquet
tables is turned again
five mixtapes in watch me churn it then turn around and hate on it and burn it
but h-ll, satan will wear a sweater before i get rich from this sh-t; best believe i’ve earned it
i’m concerning these rappers best be learnin’ or getting they wheels in they head a turning
spits out the axel
i hear em cackle i’m the new slave the background noise is the sound of my shackles
i was raised in the era when
if you don’t plug your mixtape over and over again til’ people wanna take a bobby pin and hand it to their friend so they can plug they eyeb-lls with it
eyelids; talking bout the cordeas

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