Signor Benedick the Moor - The Tragic Tale of Bisen Fransisco lyrics

[Verse 1: Signor Benedick the Moor] I wanted to hit harder than MJ's father And I don't mean to baller that n***a's just a little taller Was scalded that's when it's coming to this rap sh** Wrote a verse for orchestration then proceeded to neatly rap it Slapped it on the next track I could be making music for pictures And my rhymes like cinematic fixtures or auditory elixirs I phoenix down, sh** I better fix it Hard of hearing? Then here's a neurological f**ing picture Lyrical telepath I'm trying to get on top like hella fast These other n***as said develop ma** They put up a front, it never last But I'm the real sh** Looking at em' with a clever laugh Let's see how long your f**ing era last Talking to mice, in my spare time My momma said I got a rare mind, someone like me is a rare find And I have to agree Every time I start to open my mind I feel like Pandora Ain't no escaping the horror Open the doors, ain't no turnin' back I hit the pavement harder than, well you know I pray to the God, Jupiter and Juno Flip a b**h like it's s**ist judo f** honor, took her out of the equation And accelerating with budō I mean I took chi out If I was a samurai, I'd sit with a wound and die But I'm a normal guy, I try my hardest not to cry f** I might die - the end seems nigh (sh**) I feel his breath on the back of my neck First it's this, I wonder what's next The muscles in my knuckles flex My heart is beating in my chest I just wanna be the best and now the knife is at my breast I can't say much more, I know how you abhor black magic But he said that he could do it if I asked it Turn my rhymes to gold but after today was just plastic f**, now I suspect my end is tragic (my end is tragic) Looking at my soul and I'm guessing that I don't have it Cursing all my weaknesses, a rabid bad habit Wound deeper than skin and ain't nothing go sin [Interlude: Signor Benedick the Moor] Listen to this motherf**er, man He know what he talking he talking about, man Man all you gotta do is sign that line, man Sign, sign, sign the f**ing line No, motherf** this Motherf**'s the controls at? I'm taking over [Verse 2: Signor Benedick the Moor] I spit harder than MJ's father And I'm hungry all these other n***as acting like my father f** the old me, his wack sh** was such a bother I'm trying to get money, b**hes, Gucci and Prada Getting all this cash like I oughta Money, money, money Fame, fame, fame Money, money, money Fame, fame, fame Money, money, money Got a pinky ring Money, money, money Not a thing of shame Money, money, money Ey shade shades Money, money, money Money, money, money Money, money, money Money, money, money Fame, fame, fame [Outro: Signor Benedick the Moor] Hope Smoke all the blunts Get all the cash f** all the hoes f** all the hoes Get all the cash Smoke all the blunts