Yes, I had to do it. Wrote some shit on the D.O.A instrumental.
See my words flow on beat like a Viking King
You’re in pain, I’m the killer – together we’re Vicoden
Autotune is played out like wordplay with Iverson
I jumble it up, ‘cause it’s ‘I-on-vers,’ son
So I vice versa the death of hip-hop with a vers, son
I’m on fire like the place you go to after a sin
So go spell -like a Ouija board in church while you sing
Your name on a tombstone with passion
Don’t forget to cross the across bridge passing
Lake of death while you aiming to dunk, son
I’m a survivor, you a liver from a drunk, son
Meaning the river is liquor, per scripted per script
Paralyzing the limbs per percentage shift
Perplexing the glass in the ceiling like a woman movement
Moving the feelings, so you can feel it moving
Sounds resemble a fetus, hungry, so a feast is suiting
Like stepping in a three piece suite
Stop talking ‘bout palming trees and carrying a piece
The day I’ll lose, will be the day of achieving peace
Between Palestinians and Jews…poor it out and drink it
Mispronouncing helps to envision certain things vivid
I would hum ‘Ohhh Jayyy,’ but ya’ll probably say I killed it
Saying the same shit like Simpson clothes worn out
Call you haters pussies like where a baby is born out
I’m a relapsing Scarface like shady with horns located south