Who's got the mustard? (feat. The Court Jester)

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Dose Coast

3:13

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In hindsight I've been walking on a fine line
Living like a lion while spitting my verbal cyanide
My my, see my mind design lines
And it finds rhymes that's sweeter than sipping fine wine
So get ya grape kicked I've been on the late shift
Working on my craft developing on my greatness
(You ain't shit)
Like a fart that's mistaken
You sweating on the toilet, son, you constipated
Your bowels: blocked. My vowels rock the nation
My power's stocked in
How I stalk and chase the bass and beat at obnoxious pace and
Do not mistake it, you are all complacent (Uh)
I'm following the footsteps of giants
Eyeing a thrown in a home over-looked by a tyrant
My weapon? Ammunition from the books I'm supplied with
Ballistics for a David tryna cook up Goliath
I'm Mr. Too clean
Sicker than the flu sea-
Son I swear I'm magic like a few beans
If you believe then tap your heels twice
Tell Dorothy
Dear, I got champagne on ice ha
Ya lost your way home, follow yellow bricks
My heart in the wrong place but I tell them this
My courage comes from deep down in my soul
I'm lion up on the sofa I'm working my rhyme and flow
I want, Toto control
I'm cold, 40 below
And I ain't talking bout the temp I meant people under your toes
The smell, burning ya nose
In life, anything goes
Ain't no lack of brain here to scare all of you crows
So bear witness as I scribble a little
And fiddle with it 'til the shit I've written rips into riddles
Filling the rhythm with the wisdom that can fry emcees son
My own ghost writer bites his lines off me (Uh)
Relish the day we embellish and slay
When I flex my cerebellum ain't no telling the state
They left in, I left them fellas in dismay
Go home like "Babe, it's been one hell of a day"
Okay, the way I rhyme make your brain go pop
You'll find my sweet flows got the mango drop
Oh my, she want to dance, do the tango topless
Breaking all chains like I'm Django, watch this
So watch out and get your vitamins ready
The mind of a ready and able body
Buddy get in line for the deadly
No neosporin, they torn in two using Voorhes' machete
Got M&M's for dessert, for dinner mama's spaghetti
My pen is poised properly, all across the sheet
Watching fop emcees squander speech in their prophecies
I plot to knock them off the peak, cocked with novelty
And the way I prophesize, Nostradamus ain't got squat on me
Me, I demolish beats
Spitting that slaughter speak
Your talk is cheap, me, I talk like I won the lottery
I'm not a big deal but sit still keep following
Cause I plan to spit 'til nobody wanna body me
And if you're bold enough, we could open our notebooks up
And battle toe-to-toe 'til nothing's left but smoke and dust
And, know this much, while your words attack my soul and such
My words are reenforced and they're gonna outlive the both of us
Yeah, who got the Heinz who got the Dijon
Finish emcee's and help them move on
Yeah, Who got the Heinz who got the Dijon
Finish emcee's and help them move on
Come on, Who got the Heinz who got the Dijon
Finish emcee's to help them move on
Come on Come on, Who got the Heinz who got the Dijon
Finish emcee's to help them move on

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