The Flying Dutchmen - Kung Jew lyrics

Andre Iguodala, weed and powder
Peep the power
Snipe you from the light tower
Lyrical mic hour
To bird brains, my words James Bond to lames
Graffiti write and miss the glass
Straight bomb the trains
Call it exquisite, call it the mystic pallor
Who is it? Knock, knock
Who's there? Drawin' the biscuit
Sniper shot, pipework
The lone gunman Patrón guzzlin'
The phone's buzzin'
Joane's husband kept the chrome buckin'
Bruce Willis in the boat off the bridge
Throwin' somethin' a rug this time but the
Killer's his own cousin
Diabetic, sugar down, boogie down Bronx
I'ma set it, took the sound, look around
Watch rhyming fetish shook the clown
Crooked smile ox
Looking down, look, he's down
Your rookie style stops
Reverse and rewind him
Style tight like a condom is
Who the fuck you know rhyme like this?
The verbal magnum Trojan horse
Lifestyles of the rich and famous
Ran from the cops
Stepped in mud and he ditched his Asics
He spitting basics like math and subtraction
We're like Algebra, silencer
Blastin' the Gatlin'
Dipped in the back where Ben was snortin'
Watching American History X, Edward Norton
Snitches get bucked, put Feds in coffins
It's the Flying Dutchmen, seize
Men for talkin', motherfuckers

Hard body shit, stone and granite
Roam the planet
In the zone I landed can't control the panic
Flow is damaged
Foul weather therapy, rhythm hit him, Eric B
God bless the dead, he's buried and gone
Just let him be
It's the Dutchmen, baby, crush mics crazy
My tongue touch torch mics
For frostbite babies
Ice age era, with a nice chain, fella
Back pocket wallet raped for your safe
Take cheddar
Straight setup, Italiano job like Seth Green
Mini coupe to your roof
Splash your wet dream turn into a nightmare
Parsecs three of my light years
Travel space-time with rhymes but
Still I'm right here
Mine, the TEC mine, detect matter
Detect money
No technical technicality taking shit from me
Just take the ticket to back where
The fuck you came from
Outlaw Star by far, I'm still the same one
Only a bit different, still spit sickenin'
When I perfect plex your rep
The next step is to pin him
One, two, three countdown, out on the campus
Drink two or three stouts then
I'm out doing dance steps
Got your bitch backing it up and percolatin'
Off a half a Percocet, she jerkin'
I'm squirtin' later
I'm workin' it, certain flavor
Triple Ated the majors
When I knock 'em out the park
'cause my hit's are the greatest