​th1rt3en - 666 (Three Six Word Stories) lyrics

Eureka, Franklin, D roosevelt, Frank, Lynn
Collins, Ferguson, Rick, James, Brown
Ferguson
Son, come on son, Th1rt3en, I'm on one
Two-three-four-five Jacksons in action
My eyes are stained glass, look through
See the labor pains
When my brain goes into contractions
Crack pipes, wesley Snipes all over the
City like stop signs
Fall back, pull out the act right
While they catfight I rap
Like parking parallel
With 18 wheels in a snowstorm, jackknife
Too black, too strong, exactly, that type
Could somebody please, tell Father Time
To kiss my ass, pause, get it?
Then add that loss to his resume
Because he is no longer undefeated
Th1rt3en, I am the best that ever did it
When you travel back through time
You will lose 24 hours
For every hour you remain
In the past committed
I will complete a perfect final four bracket
Water the roses on your grave
And then criticize that weak shit
You are about to say
Before you fix your mouth to spit it
I bet you I am the one like Mookie
But not Mookie Betts or Spike
Lee in the movies i move the crowd like I
Have Tourette's in the movies
I hate etihw people
Taggof, taggof, kcuf, kcuf
Slut, whore, fuck it, I voted for Trump
Pump shotgun, bomb, fire, everybody Run-
DMC, Whodini with the treacherous
Three-stripe Adidas, fat gold chain necklace
Master of the guillotine
Put their heads on a chopping block
Lucifer, killing machine, executioner
Get 'em and then I'ma put 'em in
The middle of a firing squad
Load and lock, pop, pop, pop
Watch me waterboard 'em, peel
Their nails back, torture them
Cigarettes on the eyelids scorching them
To the pupil to the iris to the retina
Viruses silencing them like they're silence
Us except I'm more violent fuck 'em
I mute their music when they're unplugged
Throwing up a middle finger to the
Future of these young thugs
The Game of Thrones going back to Hell again
Cracked skeleton bones, spawn black melanin
My attitude free radical
Islam wrap cellophane around the
Mouths of these fuckboys, i keep telling 'em
Uh, but they ain't tryin' to hear me though
The word'll get around in
The hood like venereal merry go's
Aerial views of drug dealer burials
Crackhead, flat-screen TVs, and cheap stereos
Swing, go ahead, take a swing (Go ahead)
You a thug
You actin' like you wanna swing on me
(Go ahead)
But hesitant 'cause you don't know if
Got that thing on me
And by thing I mean 29 books of rhymes
Words are bullets pages are the clips that
Hold unlimited ammunition
I just committed the crime
The scene is not fictitious clips
Or quick depictions of cops taking pics of
Ice picks sticking out of the victims
But a detective taking notes
On a deceased Kellogg's, General Mills
Quaker Oats
And in the bathroom scripted with
Love as he got nearer
Three six-word stories written with
Blood on the mirror

I breathe like oxygen is expensive
Don't be offended, I am defensive
I love you, take care, intensive
I love you, take care, intensive
Evisnetni, erac ekat, uoy evol I
Evisnetni, erac ekat, uoy evol I
Evisnetni, erac ekat, uoy evol I
Evisnetni, erac ekat, uoy evol I
Evisnetni, erac ekat, uoy evol I