BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
whoop whoop
- okay, check it, let me start by asking this question,
- lets see if you all agree with me ,when i leave nobodys guessing
- i came in the game with a bloody face complained about possession
- and im stuck with a voice inside my brain telling me to go and set shit
- on fire, on fire, this pen became my lighter
- i'll prolly be this way until the day that i retire
- till then i hold my hatchet high, i dont try to be a mastermind
- only half the man im gonna be when im kicking back in the afterlife
- and im drinking rape martinis with jesus and eazy e
- itll be so breezy, swear to god this shit is too easy for me
- the monster of the game and i came to play with a book of matches
- with crooked tactics to have you mother fuckers looking backwards
- and my modified persona online is like hooking catfish
- cause im rapping with an accent that people mistook for blackness
- and all these antics that im using bruising peoples egos
- to me though isn't just evil it's a prequel to the sequel
- the prophet of the booth and im dropping news on the common youth
- just like mocking two cockatoos on the loose to pay homage to
- and that dont even make sense, cause im loaning my paychecks
- to a homeless dude thats going through some shit like a trainwreck
- you can chalk up the dueces, cause im just constantly moving
- up to the point where im not losing ,still a awkwardly nuisance
- that keeps on confusing losers cause of my auspicious movement
- making monsters out of humans,man, how the fuck can i do this?
- you ask? wearing a duplicate mask, fearing no future or past
- tearing the lubricant fast while fucking this beautiful ass
- chick that came home from my show, says shes been feeling my flow,
- yet has no fucking clue about all the lengths that im willing to go
- to keep this monster tucked in the deepest parts of my mind,
- but this bitch is biting on my neck, its getting harder to hide
- he's gonna take over soon, i have no control,
- this situation will be outta hand, you better be goin
- you said you can handle darkness, you said you can handle heartless,
- you said you wouldnt get attached, now attached to your carpets
- your bits of skull and brains are scattered throughout your apartment
- with the F.B.I. just naming me their primary target
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