Pegz, Hyjak, Bias B - Last Straw (Capricorn Cat) lyrics
[Pegz, Hyjak, Bias B - Last Straw Capricorn Cat lyrics]
From behind the walls
Of a pathological labyrinth
My thoughts astral travelling
International gatherings
Grappling my angle with a
Shackle and grammar
Biting off instincts of a warrior's manner
Stab the high hat, like a bloodthirsty triad
With my tag, put up Bias B and Hyjak
The guarantor, dodging shit like a matador
Spitting MC's off stage like human cannibal
Jabber jaw, butterfingers need practice
Get a grip, or get thrown back like catfish
Jack Darcy, rap raspy
Snap nasty rappers like actors by paparazzi
Give em salty tears
Like the footsteps on faulty peers
Jumping off the faulty bridge
With the winning lighter ticket in the
Hands of their lonely kids
They didn't even know exist
This is the last straw, for the encore
Start a bar brawl
Play Russian roulette with ya head
In front of the dartboard
Evil ceremony masters in awe, for sure
After a glass or more we bend
The rules like guitar chords
Well look what the cat dragged
In you can't imagine
It's the half-retarded ass and
Smoke breathing dungeon dragon
No time for lolly gagging, ay Peg' and Bias
Let's get this set of pliers
Get inside the studio, set it on fire
I'll never retire
Too rough for your play list
Diss myself too much so my
Enemies can't say shit
Dangerous when faded so the
Average faces still stare
Getting ripped off paint cubes
Drag racing in wheel chairs
Vision still impaired
Method for raps whenever molesting tracks
Pimp the beat without feathers in my hat
If I ever met my match, I'd set it on fire
Thrash instrumentals like rentals til
We're wrecking the tires
I'll let you know I like to get them promos
Everywhere I walk sport the Ecko logo
People I don't know want me
Pose for the photo
Drinking red wine and some
Be thinking I'm homo
Just busting raps on tracks
Watching the wack get worse
Dropping their dacks for a crap each
Time they drop a verse don't get me started
These half hearted retarded bastards
Are like that track on beeswax
When me and Balans farted
I got the quality, fine wine rhymes
You love it others are cheaper than my
Video on Centre budget
They getting cut like the Brothers
Stoney with a nugget
Make him wanna give up the mic
And just say fuck it!
Now put that inside your rhyme
Book and smoke it
And hope it smells better than it sounded
On the day you wrote it even if half of this
Shit was chocolate coated
Couldn't swallow one bar
Double dipped and honey roasted
Hyjak, Bias and Pegasus
Three predators on the premises
With uncontrollable microphone fetishes
Every time I touch the mic I
Get this urge to speak
So much shit the mic will be
Smelling like turds for weeks
Burn weed every day, it's like a re-run
These MC's come to battle and
Collapse like Bias B's lung
Give me my Makita back 'Jak
You must be dreaming from drinking cheap rum
Bounce off each other like speed bumps
It's the shit starter, Ginger Megs
Ninja Pegz bite the heads off Power
Rangers and finger Feds
Putting little kids to bed
How bout a drink instead?
Where's my garlic bread man?
Smoking garlic ay? Where's my 33 cents 'Jak?
Ay what happened to that dollar man?
Where's my money? Where's my money?
Ha ha ha
We gonna the beer up in here! Ooh Wee!
Of a pathological labyrinth
My thoughts astral travelling
International gatherings
Grappling my angle with a
Shackle and grammar
Biting off instincts of a warrior's manner
Stab the high hat, like a bloodthirsty triad
With my tag, put up Bias B and Hyjak
The guarantor, dodging shit like a matador
Spitting MC's off stage like human cannibal
Jabber jaw, butterfingers need practice
Get a grip, or get thrown back like catfish
Jack Darcy, rap raspy
Snap nasty rappers like actors by paparazzi
Give em salty tears
Like the footsteps on faulty peers
Jumping off the faulty bridge
With the winning lighter ticket in the
Hands of their lonely kids
They didn't even know exist
This is the last straw, for the encore
Start a bar brawl
Play Russian roulette with ya head
In front of the dartboard
Evil ceremony masters in awe, for sure
After a glass or more we bend
The rules like guitar chords
Well look what the cat dragged
In you can't imagine
It's the half-retarded ass and
Smoke breathing dungeon dragon
No time for lolly gagging, ay Peg' and Bias
Let's get this set of pliers
Get inside the studio, set it on fire
I'll never retire
Too rough for your play list
Diss myself too much so my
Enemies can't say shit
Dangerous when faded so the
Average faces still stare
Getting ripped off paint cubes
Drag racing in wheel chairs
Vision still impaired
Method for raps whenever molesting tracks
Pimp the beat without feathers in my hat
If I ever met my match, I'd set it on fire
Thrash instrumentals like rentals til
We're wrecking the tires
I'll let you know I like to get them promos
Everywhere I walk sport the Ecko logo
People I don't know want me
Pose for the photo
Drinking red wine and some
Be thinking I'm homo
Just busting raps on tracks
Watching the wack get worse
Dropping their dacks for a crap each
Time they drop a verse don't get me started
These half hearted retarded bastards
Are like that track on beeswax
When me and Balans farted
I got the quality, fine wine rhymes
You love it others are cheaper than my
Video on Centre budget
They getting cut like the Brothers
Stoney with a nugget
Make him wanna give up the mic
And just say fuck it!
Now put that inside your rhyme
Book and smoke it
And hope it smells better than it sounded
On the day you wrote it even if half of this
Shit was chocolate coated
Couldn't swallow one bar
Double dipped and honey roasted
Hyjak, Bias and Pegasus
Three predators on the premises
With uncontrollable microphone fetishes
Every time I touch the mic I
Get this urge to speak
So much shit the mic will be
Smelling like turds for weeks
Burn weed every day, it's like a re-run
These MC's come to battle and
Collapse like Bias B's lung
Give me my Makita back 'Jak
You must be dreaming from drinking cheap rum
Bounce off each other like speed bumps
It's the shit starter, Ginger Megs
Ninja Pegz bite the heads off Power
Rangers and finger Feds
Putting little kids to bed
How bout a drink instead?
Where's my garlic bread man?
Smoking garlic ay? Where's my 33 cents 'Jak?
Ay what happened to that dollar man?
Where's my money? Where's my money?
Ha ha ha
We gonna the beer up in here! Ooh Wee!