Yo Double-A
I blaze this energizer let's see you pull this one...
Aceyalone:
Happy birthday to me
Happy earth day to we
I just turned a hundred and seventy five million
Two hundred and seventy three
And I'm at my peak
A freak of the week
A straight tweak with a godly type mystique
So Charles?, Spock, nanou nanou
Why don't you and you?
Abort, distortion report on which sort
A quick court, support, cut short
Time warp, interplanetary movement
I'll say foul play, hey!
Which way does Willy Wonka stay?
We came to see the chocolate sway
Happy birthday to me, to me
Hip hip hooray to me, to me
Synthetical prototype
Genetical photocopy
Xerox and medical mocks a breakthrough
Shocks and shakes you
As Acey takes you
Through lyrical masochism
And as I blast at last I give 'em
Dissect, insect, inflict, whoa
Destination one-two-oh
Ohhhh
'One hundred and twenty seconds until you die'
When I die, bury me under the gravel
Travel fifty feet down, step out and pack me in
I admonished, I won't be back again
Now I'm a entity, ex-humanity within
Earthly vanities, sunshine and the wind
I suppose, Ambrosia rose your souls
To give you immortality and infinity skin
But you're immortal portal close, you froze
(ah.. he froze)
Now your taken in a free fall in the end
Every draft, breeze, trickle of water, a sound wave
In your perimeter is similar
And behaves as a test to manifest life forms
It forms a warm blunted
Heavily budded individual
In the visual eye
Cut it, gut it, fry
I am invisible so is it impossible to cry?
Nope, soak my pillow case
I wrote a little taste
I'm hopin' the middle breaks the lies
My objective remains at one with the stainless steel object
Still feels the pain
Flagrant, nefarious
Fragrence of various agents
And chemical compounds compounded
A bouquet, a readily picked array
Of dandelions, roses, pointset-i-as
Gold marigolds in a vase that's pa**ed to monks
And kindred, intended, descended
And suspended in mid-air
Match amended and I ended on a bad note
Put salt in the open wound and I WROTE!