Chef Gold - Black Arts lyrics

I be dealing in black arts See me wheeling the black cart down the back part deep in the cellar of Path Mark Stewed brews of chewed glue from crude foods For the voodoo pupils be larger than two moons Back from the deep Strapped with a knack to attract when he rap on the beat Breaching the gap, leaving the trap Peeling the cap off of fat demons keeping him back Ah, its starting to look clear Navigating the myriad clouds that stood here Tall guy the sky is all I see Sight beyond sight wherever the eyes be I be whatever reads on my ID f**ed up in the crib with the pens where you find me Really its nothing he's actually only bluffing But tactically he's dumping on rappers after the luncheon and Dinner time is actually really Miller time Pabst for snacks he hack tracks while sipping wine Flipping rhymes no dimes on deez nuts But my steez up yo I be dirty like three s*uts Freeze up, flow cold like North Pole Twice as nice spitting the ice with more soul Yo he rap nice sharper than twenty stalagmites Like a gla** knife sending you back to the past life You can ask Mike I dont even know I'm just pretending I'm a rapper but I don't even flow Even though I be wheeling and dealing in feelings yo Really i'm fiending for meaning behind the reasoning bro I'm not a player I just play games like Claire Dames Find me on the grind trynna maintain Staying sane be my main thing I see rain at the reigns of my mainframe Word up and down and left and right G I don't understand why s**as is trynna fight me Might be, cause I'm feisty, like your dike be Got her under spells expanding my clientele Peddling lyrics to apparitions and spirits Yo my condition is vivid I live it, wanna give it And try to stand but I pivot the lack of gin got me timid I'm driven by strange visions and prisms I can't get rid 'em Or get rid of the rhythm it's embedded Genetically destined to be big like Intrepid Thats XL all over this rap sh**, I spit it elastic, other brothers lack this s**as need to practice Me I was born like this How you gonna scorn when you getting torn like this It's whatever son I just get her done In any weather you silly competitors better run