THE DEVICE: Dark Night Records MixTape vol.2 (FREE DOWNLOAD)

                       

Hallucination

02:47 Download
D.N.A.

Lyrics

- VERSE -
Spittin' the truth, smokin' a bowl/
stay in the lab like there's nowhere to go/
pen to the pad, low and behold/
stackin' sheets like folding some clothes/
window to soul open and closed/
razor sharp, poking some holes/
new breed of emcees broken the mold/
spit hot fiyah, you froze in the cold/
dig in the closet for coat & the skully/
lace up the boots, it's supposed to get muddy/
P.O.W. soldiers get bloody/
trapped in the system, hopeless and hungry/
doughnut cops get swollen and pudgy/
soulless and cold, they old and they ugly/
these founding fatherss openly snub me/
except when I roll with Smoke-y and Puff-y/

- VERSE -


- VERSE -
I'm hypersensitive to inspirtational sources/
I ace my courses/
check mate, can't escape from raging horses and rooks/
read rhymes from the pages of a sorcerer's book/ these verses and hooks/
surge through the surface and journey/
through my nerves and what occurs/
is a nourishing surge/
these ceremonial herbs/
burn like a burden, burn all these concerns/
as the pages turn/
learn from past chapters, last laughter/
is sweet, but I wanna be the first/
so I gotta rehearse/
cuz things seem to get worse/
and I don't wanna eat dirt/
rather land feet first/
and be the cream of the crop/
I'll see the scene of a crime/
deduce the scheme and the plot/
produce it steamin' and hot/
chemistry on this team is like peas in a pod/
we got no reason to stop/
like Krayzie Bone said, divine forces "order my steps"/
I never find myself bored or depressed//

- VERSE -
Flowin' ridiculous, mission impossible/
hurtin' the track - it's in the hospital/
complex verses, lyrics and obstacles/
hot like a dime lickin' a popsicle/
rocking your world like a chicken on top of ya/
brutal kicks like a prisoner stompin' ya/
left-right-left, 'til you spittin' and coughing blood/
bitter and sweet, like hittin' a chocolate blunt/
and that's just how B-O-N-E-Z get down/
because most of the lot of you emcees is clowns/
you can pack a show, but can't please no crowds/
and even now/
you're somewhere sittin' and writin' about - nada/
the lot of your rhymes caca/
call the doctor to shock you/ you're dead/