Christy Smith - Way Cool lyrics

[Intro] Play it cool... And don't make no fast moves... (x4) [Intro 2] Do you really-really-really wanna play it cool? You don't even know who we are! (x4) [Verse 1: Self Jupiter] I ran in the house from the rain Walked to the top of the stairs, then I turned, looked Then a room on the left There she was, Her Bang on the bed looking pretty but she burned Snatched off the ring with a yank Pulled out the shank and i dismembered her Dancing around in the yard Juggling drawers/jaws for the soul (errr?) Dump in the ditch in the back Next to a shrub and a tree and a fern Move from the frisee? that I planted underneath Beneath were worms squirm There was a storm that night Flight from the rithering feather? I stand stiff as if i was Rest in peace decease Please pa** the lamb chop table Full of dead people hitting the table Is what perceived me [Verse 2: Mikah 9] Omen's Black cats and cataracts Dark omen's Come in a sewer system for my victims Middle evict em? contradictum Stabb in the back? An open a cavity? Step back? Oh god, mama, jesus, allah, jah I didn't do nothing, didn't see nothing all? Grim reaper Myka niiieeii With steady body bag steppin Where are all the children gentlemen The devil perceve? The rival redemed The d**h of a community celebration? Six dead men Six dead women Six barbecue lays Of sauteed devils Are done away I grill away At night I live to fight another day Dispicable omens Lots of bold folks too Ones foot in, two foot in Im serving them h*mo-sapien stew [Verse 3: P.E.A.C.E] Dinner time Holla ? no for looking at fine? Four chicks maximum fillets Funky and fried? Finger licking human chicken, breast, legs, thighs, thighs This is where the world annual cannibal time, time Yo man, how d'ya get the meat outta of there s** it and throw the bones in the bucket Damn! That hit the spot satis-fine fine Something you didn't test but not to contest With the purest wickedness for the wicked sign... I swarm in the center of the circle with style-change Striking your brain, finger nail to the jugular vein Half of dance floor is stained with type-O Your body hits the floor, your homie catches a E-l-bow to the throat let your body flow [Verse 4: Aceyalone] Well I sat in the back of the radio shack With the axe and a fat sack, hat to the back Could have jacked, Could have sold crack, Could of rat packed Could of napped, Could of slowed back, Could of rolled craps Could it fall flat back like a flap Jack stack But I'm black and an acrobat, and I know the facts Amma wax, amma tax, I'mma break a back! Gotta rap, gotta trap, then I gotta strap On the track on attack and I'm on a map Sick of the crap, listen to the gatt, bang Yakety yak don't talk wack Slick like a alley cat dirty like a rat First up to bat, headed for the shack I ring along and sing along and bring'em like a pack? Fresh off the rack, giving the body slack I greet him like a soldier, and beat him with my gatt And then I go walking through another man's mind Chopping up his membrane sliding down his spine Under his skin is crawling, germy, jellies moving blind Burning smelling turning creole With the weight of world swine? You're slow, every breathe a take you defecate and hurl I'm in you, spin you continue I see you Can't you hear me gnawing And sawing your bone An end on a feeding? internal bleeding foam Full blown, creepy, crazy Cool [Outro] Turning around and around, my darling Turning around and around... (x4)