Jakprogresso - 52 State Chamelion lyrics
[Jakprogresso - 52 State Chamelion lyrics]
- So what's the good news? - He’s the blade
He could have done expectin' a better
Job, need that more time, but
Overall, it was uh, good victim butchery!
Welcome to the Free Hive
With a tar loading and
Every track'll be sighed
I creep like Federal drive-bys of
Weed protesters and Peace signs
I do features and rappers
That have to re-write (Oh man)
I’m homicide elatеd, Lo-fi sign the hated
Curses on thе mic like, dice in Vegas
Dark flicks, pale writer
My CD circulate like Behold
The Pale Horse paperback, in Rikers
The moss is hand-picked
Street magic cloth in hand drip
I pop lock at your funeral
Like African coffin dancers
It's a dirty spirit flea bomb
I got mad love from rappers
Like Cupid on bad E-Bombs?
You come to a half spotted
Axe in blood drenched
This a bonanza heavy pen punchfest
No Punk trend, coffins gettin' stacked
Like bunkbeds, split drum heads
Over drug blends
Still trippin' still dosin' you
Want a ill opus
Give me a midget stripper, a couch pillow
Then a MILF fromin'
Syd Barrett, I swerve through the streets
I got no bed for rent just servin' you sheets
The more I'm poppin’ (What?)
The more I start to think somebody watchin’
(watchin') , so blowin’ up is not a option
Sicilian Oxy, the pads all cracked they say
It's out in Rockland hahaha, stupid
Yo (come on, man) , start 'em no, exhausted butcher, one arm to go
I piss in your chest shot
That's a heart o’ gold
Church fire on the news is
Really lit, one flow, 52 State Chameleon
He could have done expectin' a better
Job, need that more time, but
Overall, it was uh, good victim butchery!
Welcome to the Free Hive
With a tar loading and
Every track'll be sighed
I creep like Federal drive-bys of
Weed protesters and Peace signs
I do features and rappers
That have to re-write (Oh man)
I’m homicide elatеd, Lo-fi sign the hated
Curses on thе mic like, dice in Vegas
Dark flicks, pale writer
My CD circulate like Behold
The Pale Horse paperback, in Rikers
The moss is hand-picked
Street magic cloth in hand drip
I pop lock at your funeral
Like African coffin dancers
It's a dirty spirit flea bomb
I got mad love from rappers
Like Cupid on bad E-Bombs?
You come to a half spotted
Axe in blood drenched
This a bonanza heavy pen punchfest
No Punk trend, coffins gettin' stacked
Like bunkbeds, split drum heads
Over drug blends
Still trippin' still dosin' you
Want a ill opus
Give me a midget stripper, a couch pillow
Then a MILF fromin'
Syd Barrett, I swerve through the streets
I got no bed for rent just servin' you sheets
The more I'm poppin’ (What?)
The more I start to think somebody watchin’
(watchin') , so blowin’ up is not a option
Sicilian Oxy, the pads all cracked they say
It's out in Rockland hahaha, stupid
Yo (come on, man) , start 'em no, exhausted butcher, one arm to go
I piss in your chest shot
That's a heart o’ gold
Church fire on the news is
Really lit, one flow, 52 State Chameleon