Warp World (feat. Psypiritual)

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FanningSystems

2:48

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I stand Old English can "tall" with an unsalted vegan burger
Oxymoronic like homicidal pigs protect and serve, Word
Word UP, there's a reason pork is Haram
Faith and filth, the same reason ion like law
Enforcement endorse shit
Dope heads release endorphins then post up at the Circle K
Lost in time like an abortion, worse shit
I knew some alchy's that swerved a Cadillac truck
Sip a plastic twist cap 40, sit back then close it back up
Mad stunts, like an action flick based on Christopher Dorner
Everybody gets a shot contact sport 
Pop Warner in the GS three double O
Yeah no shit I'ma rap star, yeah no shit its a rap car
Ya notion's soft shit, trying to act hard
In a peaceful protest I spin my wheels
Throw up the dub, I'm bout these chores
Colonize ya block like Reagan era did to El Salvador
I'm bout these chores, I'm bout these chores
Bout this
Yes I'm bout these chores
Write my name, swing my car, kill some cops
I'm bout these chores
Structure fire, times is dire, bless the block
I'm bout these chores
Fix a scheme, reinvest, record a song
I'm bout these chores man, what the f*ck you on?

Freedom of expression in a region of depression
Think while you still can it's not illegal to have questions
Provided cancer and debts straight from the systems
These grimy brown rhythms for ya neighbor and ya sister
Keep it pushing up I'll never let the flow jam
He left the headless horseman going against the program
Big Bang Theory, I started off with a boom
Collateral damage I assume
Buddha's bagging dope in the room
St. Nicholas got a needle in his arm
In his heart he hears harm, but he desensitized his alarm
Caught within the midst, his name no longer exist
I showed up to the wake and gave his momma a kiss
The tooth fairies on that G (meth)
Always looking loopy
Snoopy lost his dogs and his face is all droopy
Rookies wanna recruit me and cops wanna shoot me
My hood needs loot G, sit down and reboot the
Maniacal Macintosh, mac and saws lip sing left you lost
You want gold at what cost?
Let's get your soul to start off
Let's get your soul to start off
I'm from the wicked, hitting targets with broken dishes
Beyond dismissive, used up all my wishes for floating frigid 
Fold em like towels
Feel my word in ya bowels
Take the soul up out ya body
I could do this shit for hours
Swing with a tempo, fall down to my steps
Every toes on it's tip 
I think this backwoods next
To die and overdose
Chop off ya toes with a butter knife and fly away

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