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