Cage - Escape to 88 lyrics

Who is this? Cage? With a little message
The illest four letter word
Observe while I serve! That's no question
Who is this? Cage?
Clips missin' from the gun
Cage Kennylz, back to the stage
Cause gun to forehead don't
Make em feel preachy

Welcome to a piece of brain tissue
My brain's lungs filled with octane
Like liquid that came from
Some silly set of tit's sellin illy
Really? By the jar? Pump the
Car full of grey jelly
Called her Rhonda, after I shit on the dash
Cause, I can't stand hooked up Hondas
The three maneuver so swiftly in
And out of looters
Through checkpoints with juice
In stashed coolers
2002, my album's played through
ID on the window like it's fucking Beirut
Too bad no planes flew into MTV
I'll never get a platinum plaque for MP3s
Being blackballed by a white MC - Pause
I guess that faggot found the right MD
And I'm twisted but not like
Faggots that suck fame
This clown's insane I'm sicker
With metal than Mudvayne
I train my following like a bitch modelin
H is like her God and it won't stop hollerin
Fuck needing a TV to be a rockstar
Punch a hole through Mark Wahlbergs chest
And dent a cop car
Put my brain in it, I wouldn't last a minute
Scribble some shit in 30
I'm loved like gimmicks
Sluts, cynics, ducks with dipped spinach
Fuckin you up in the front
Row's good for image

Who is this? Cage? With a little message
The illest four letter word
Observe while I serve! That's no question
Who is this? Cage?
Clips missin' from the gun
Cage Kennylz, back to the stage
Cause gun to forehead don't
Make em feel preachy

I got a walked on
Half-eaten heart of a gorilla
That lost his family and wants
Revenge on his killers clapped the poacher
Fled the stomach of rap through an ulcer
Covered in blood, eating with vultures
Off the chain it got a hook in it's back
Scalded my feet breastfeeding
Moms was cooking up crack
Drop me in a pot, cop me in the spot
Pistols gleaming
In the sun, look son, I'm crystal fiendin
Nondescript, we're fleetin any
Malicious beatings
Specially after y'all left a
Couple bitches breathin
Six is reading, bitterly gritty
Caught a GTA charge before Liberty City
Too bad no brains blew out no heads plenty
I'll probably die after I Blow like Ted Demme
There's no conspiracy
Your bitch is a forced fit
In the telly yelling "Behold
The pale horse dick"
Fuck the Taliban, I'm back to Ballys, and
Keep your little faggot brother off of Sally
Man i can explain it "do not cross
This line" in my brain feds in the crib
But they're not finding the cane
Cause time in the game, New York is trife
My boy T on the lamb like a fork and knife
The corporate life
Too fond of the blonde talker
So I grew a beard and
Switched sides like John Walker