Masters of Illusion - Scared Straight lyrics

"When three guys, will slide into your cell
Wrap your ass up in that blanket
They gon' kick your ass over
The side of that bed
And do bodily harm to your asshole
By stickin a dick in it"

They looks at my styles
Like a crackhead does upon a rock
And pipe to get hype
I got 'em dirty fiendin for me
Losin pounds for my sounds
That knows and tilts consumes the liquor
'til the 40 gets killed
I bite that apple lick my lips like LL
Doin it well, shock the world
Charm your momma verbalizin your girl
Don't fuck with sorcerers with lyric bombs
You know we got spells, abra-abra-abracadabra
Grabba, this rapper can
Abra-abra-cadaver another rapper
Change yo' range yo
I drop my styles offer than an obtuse angle
I'm threatening
Miraculous things be happening
Every time I spit
The verbal through speakers
I'm on the court while you sorry
Niggas sit in the bleachers
Cheerleaders, fear leaders
Sissy niggas with skirts
I'm catchin waves like white
Dude surfers with tans
My King Kong style, climbin buildings
Holdin yo' bitch i'm dichotomy to everybody
I'm fuckin melodic
Niggas comin out with drama
Lookin mad histrionic
I bounce uniquely, get up on this land
Destroy you like water
Yo mother nature that's my ho and
I been pimpin her bro
My conversation's built like Spider-Man
It's neighborhood friendly
But expands like Apocalypse for
Niggas that's envy
I back yo' team up ten yards
Cause yo' partner was holdin
I sacked your quarterback with fifty sacks
This money I'm foldin
He just an inmate with a cock up in you
? my style

"Dead as a mouse"
"Your butt's in jail", "so why you pushin it"
"In the house of pain"

You got to handle it Bill, yeah
Yo check the reason i hear you scream loud
Your cell door's full of semen
Prisoners catch you, posin hard like a statue
Too many men in your crew
But not there wit'chu
You Coppertone, put your wig on
You start to moan
Walkin your hallway, your panties shine
In the doorway
Cell block, you stop, inmates
You on they jock
Seein protection, big men hit your midsection
You gettin bumrushed
By TV's with a yeast infection you on call
For a warden standin by the kitchen
You snitched my man, here's a tape
Take a listen
You on security watch, walkin by the door
I explore more, raw to the deepest core
Yeah, have you on 4's

"You are his kid, you gotta clean this cell
You gotta wash his drawers and socks
And he wanna fuck you in your ass
You'll let him
And if he wanna sell you to another prisoner
He'll do that too"