Lyrics:
the way, William McGonagall is often cited as being the worst poet in any language ever
Legend has it that he is the first person to actually have rotten
where are you takin' me too huh America
Yo I'm Kunta Kinte 'fore he was enslaved by America
Picture the freedom before the terror
Who had to carry
{Word?} Ain't he a Reverend now, collectin plates
At churches and shit?
(He's spittin flames right now baby
He at the top of his game, right now
I'm tellin,
with lipo's
You annoy me John, your fuckin' nuts, I know
So that's why I roll up on you like five-0
Look at Kendrick man, he's one of my idols
I would
We called 'em football heads when we'd sell 'em
We was goin' fed, movin' football heads, called it Helga
Codeine by the lean-a, pounds of gasoline-a,
A letter from my man young boy William Blake
Read by reverend John Trusler
He ordered Blake to illustrate paint pictures
Little did he know Blake was
Super Dave on the track, yeah, yeah
Legendary
(Gangsta Grillz)
Niggas so impressed by other niggas raps
But the thing you know best is "Bought
friend, my hero, was killed by a drunk driver in
a head-on collision. He died instantly.
I couldn't even bring myself to go to his funeral.
My agony was so
his prime
We was taught 3 main religions
Ask Walter Williams
The destruction of civilization
By Chancellor Williams
I'm a student from
the stick
Now throw your hands in the air, He's william the kid
Mistaken for a stereotype, he's flipping the script's
Maybe why he offered me white when I'm
right
I wish i told him that
Now I can't even stroll down Driver St
Without holding back tears
Shit is weird how the years go by
Regardless of the fact
in the pudding and that baking sodas taking
Paper that I'm making got her taking photos naked
Listening to niggas like whistling at Wendy Williams
I
man!
For the boys march at dawn from the south to the north
Led by Kelly, the boy from Killanne!"
Tell me who is the giant with the gold curling hair,
He
the average man's planet he can't fathom
That he can ever be anything other than stats, fat and taxable
He's getting his usual, ritual 2 o'clock cup of noodles
of the nigga that's makin' your beats?
I've done things for him I thought that he never would need
Father had to stretch his hands out and get it from me
I
a fond farewell
To Edison and Alexander Graham Bell
To Garibaldi and William Tell
Debbie Harry and Richard Hell
Grandmaster Melle Mell
Brothers Righteous,
pettiness any inquiry
To the faithful variations are not lies
Music by Dying Fetus John Gallagher, Shane Beasley, Trey Williams
Revisionist Past from
Just throw your wine glass for Slo up high
We drink cava the shade of lava out the bottle, like a genie
Served buffalo wings by bitches in bikinis
at a life that's so Open
Book like my homie Da TRUTH
So they wanna know Deuce
You have a wife any kids?
What's your struggle?
Da TRUTH says that he wrestles
Mary
Demarcus, William Tilman terrell Thomas
Alton Sterling had a great smile in pictures
He's human, don't forget that God wit' him
I'm sad because
in the pudding and that baking sodas taking
Paper that I'm making got her taking photos naked
Listening to niggas like whistling at Wendy Williams
I
Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken,
Paper dat I'm makin, gotta take dem photos naked.
Listenin to niggas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams,
I
When he was young he thought he'd walk the paths
Of the heroes that he worshiped, being adventurous and spirited
And yet he chose the path he was
the gift shop by the lake that bled blue rivers full of rain
And truth was stretched like clingfilm
Over a john of the kind they have by the Autobahns
And I
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