Greydon Square - 5th lyrics

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4" "What comes after 4?"
2

Higher form fighter born firestorm
Disguised as porn
Hiding out inside your dorm
Buyer be warned as in caveat emptor
As other inmates
In the yard ask me what I’m in for
Ten four, but only if you copy
Most of these cocky rappers are
Known to be sloppy
Whole posse, sound old and off beat
I stomp the track, 10 toes, all feet
Raw meat for the carnage described as lost
I draw heat from the darkness
Whether high cross or crescent moon sacrilege
Dig in the truth sack
They’ll send the goons after ya
I am Africa, as much as America, Europe
And I can back it up
Using nothing but a sundial, and an abacus
Half of this, is studied in the classic sense
The other half, is quantum scale accurate
Now we study 'til we master it
Collecting assets cause we’re passionate
I hope you notice that they’ve sold you a lie
Which is exactly what will happen
When you open your mind gU!
We’ve amassed a collective
Of trans-intellectual genius for
Your inspection yea the dream is on
That’s why I spit it Frederick Douglass
Mixed with Robert G ingersoll
The free-est fall
You couldn’t match velocity
I keep it going even if the DJ drops the beat
Cock the heat
And aim it at these wack rappers
Force their defeat then chain
'em to these backpackers
I’m Mr strickland, you’re a bad slacker
If you’re a villain
I’m Batman in my vast cavern
I'ma spit 'til I can’t
I just hope my family and friends understand
This the plan
Climb the scientific tree of knowledge
Pick a branch or you’ll miss your chance
My music leaves you in a sensor trance
Compare you to me
Would be like B-boyin’ to Riverdance
Get your man

Who are the best five rappers of all time?
Think about it
Papi, Papi, Papi, Papi, and Papi
Because I spit hot fire!

What’s it like? What? Life
It’s sucks if you just chase bucks
And chuck dice for brittle stuff
Sickle tucked, and it’ll cut, and riddle guts
Indo in dutch
2 puffs and pass it if you lit it up
Yea we smokin’
Why the fuck you think we still here?
My whole crew is real weird
A bold new peer tier
Here, here, a spliff for Mister X
I’ve kicked it with the best
And slept while missiles hit the deck
They never gave an inch of respect
So I took it and was housed
Where the signal was kept
Still I caught you lookin’
Gross overtly, still nerdy within
I’ll pick my teeth with a dirty syringe
Then kick my flow superbly who want it
Fuck a round, you diss
I’m giving you two hundred
Up and down, really bizarre
These silly apes let them churches
Tell 'em who their enemies are
While we wonder how
People get blowed off my second hand
A master in the dojo
The very type to check your stance
Brand the logo now the people
Call me "4 Side"
On the beat I’m spittin' cheat
Codes just for more lives