Hieroglyphics, Souls Of Mischief - Chicago lyrics

Here we go souls we got a show in Chicago
4 hours in flight, it seem like 25 though
Call in the promoter where is the chaffeur?
Out here it's hella colder
And where we from it don't snow bro
The wind chill'll crack a windshield
Waited for dude to pull up
Packed it in and spin wheels
Now we can blaze checked into the tel and
Take a shower and things
We only got an hour and change
DJ lets to went and bought a seagrams
Mixed it with 7 up I asked
If I could see some
Took a couple moments to smoke
I get to cheefin knew at 6 o' clock in
The lobby we all meeting you eat man?
I'm hungry as fuck
The airplane food what's up with peking duck?
Or some chicken chow mein 'fore
We getting out on stage
Let's do a quick about face and
Get down with a plate
I gotta energize my body with some sustenance
Cause, I never know
What the fuck I'm up against (that's real)
Promoter rushing us
But, I take my time though
We get there when we get there
Nigga you know how I go
Alive on arrival baby
Show me your Hiero thong
And they playing my song the crowds maniacal
Check 1-2 turn up my monitor so
I can catch the vibes in
Here it gets phenomenal

Honey in the front row climax
That's when I feed money with the wire tap
Ear-piece behind the track
Bored with the engineer
On the fringe of fear as they both got
Drenched with beer to a vicious cheer
You could almost sense revenge was near
Maintenance might need astringents here
Bo! and the tension just startin to grow
I think the crowd thinks it's
Part of the show
I thought I left that part of
The O with marvelous flow like hagla
Like when niggas wouldn't back up
Starved for more now we deep on stage like
Callin' me no pardon me bro pardon me bro
Pardon me man excuse me
Get the fuck out the way

(Ah shit
Wuddn't my fault know what I'm sayin'
I hear you)

Oh shit'sierra
Pounds drippin' all on the oh 6
Flex respects ready to throw a fit
Some meathead frat cat with that
Abercrombie cap flipped back
Damn near collapsed
My mind recaps seeing him backstage
With that bootlegged ninety three till vinyl
Tryna get us to sign it
I could tell by his eyes dilated and wide
He was too high headed for hard times
Kept coming from the side
"Yo daddy this our time"
You interrupt the set and sparks fly
Even real fans throw their hands
Yo plus get his legs
Thought I saw a tooth fly
When old knucks hit his face
Gotta couple swings in
'fore I felt that stingin'
Burnin' sensation (my eyes)
Either pepper spray or mace shit
They tore down the place
While we stomped that boy
Who the fuck said hip hop
Ain't no contact sport