Bookoo Bread Company
Potlikker Enterprises
Soulfolks Theological Seminary
Left it on the spit so spinnin' like a gyro
Steady ready All-Star like Z-Bo
Sad gazebo, shootin' for the b-roll
Combo moves now the cheat code
Frank talk like Biko
We started countin' that zero
Imminent fantasy, in Tennessee with my enemies, feelin' lovely
Bloodline muddy, crib a little cutty, but I'm gifted
Beat a little dusty, but I'm lifted
Trust, we goin' the distance
Goin' for speed, goin' for green-peace, goin' beyond need
Sparin' the rod, sharin' a laugh with God
And my belly still hurtin', tell dunny don't worry 'bout the wordin'
It's more about the feelin'
It's more about the feelin', it's more about the feelin'
Ran out screamin', "make it make sense"
I'm the dojo of Kosho Shinogi, I think you owe me
Funkin', Shogun of the Harlem of the mind
Barterin' with it all on the line
Gigglin', 'cause I like them stakes and odd strategies
Snakes thought God was mad at me and started slithering closer
Wigglin' over pre-determined boundary lines
The bell and the foundry chimes loudly
Crack [?] enough to smack some sense into the densest apprentice
My pastime includes hopping fences, fencing
Algorithms keep telling me I'm not sexy, I haven't been listening
Belly out at the show
Poet gang looking like pirates fresh out the cove
I thought you should know
We've been moving units, moody whosits seem to be losing steam
We have ruby yacht technology for remembering dreams
Sure the focus is good, hocus pocus, locusts and hoods
I open up the blues blood so it come out to show them
Come out to show them
Notes from a wise-ass and a unicorn triad
Tinker with their mind like a doo-dad