Sixth Sense - Disconnected lyrics

I don't even know what's going on We're gonna erase that all this bullsh** talking- Nah just keep on going We'll just erase it later I don't even know Unh unh ah ah ah Bout to bring it to ya live live live live What what what what [Verse 1] Now I don't mean to discourage you from making your music But I only talk this much sh** 'cause I'm able to do it What a major influence I'll accomplish Some of these young bread crumb lazy bed bums I'll leave your head numb when I shed some light On tikes about the definition of sk** Clear it out and try to get some Grab a mic to gain some recognition and build a fanbase Man wait, watch how Eyedea do 'Cause I'm the one And you couldn't be the two if it was just me and you I keep it true, intrigued Your crew like recently chewed gum under my shoe Step after step They compress into the tracking I feel Rep after rep 'Cause they ain't fresh with their rapping I feel like Cracking their necks because Their worthless search for respect Is just too much to be asking I don't do such it Contributes to the pollution There's no resolution the way I see it So I'ma be dicks to your face To your cheap tricks 'cause I'm basically sick of the fake emcee sh** That stops all of us from having fun B-boys just wanna have fun I need excitement so I leave the mic bent I'm slightly conceited and I think I like it [Chorus 1] Now when Eyedea's in the place You know he 'bout to wreck sh** (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) Yo when Abilities' is in the house You know he 'bout to represent kid (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) If there's only one prop in the room We 'bout to collect it (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) I could make a fairly dope crew Out of the crews I just digested (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) [Verse 2] Opposition gets washed away When my lyrical rain falls I'm a extraterrestrial professional b-boy from St. Paul I wanna play ball but I knew that white men can't jump But it's hard god damn work makin' you look this bad Yeah, that's right, work And work's a b**h when it's hot But who else would help you to the shop Just to see you drop? Not your baby's momma, her sister, or your pop 'Cause I didn't want to be a lyricist it's just I forgot to stop And you forgot to read the directions that explain how to rock That's obvious why you're sloppy miss Sorry b**h broken stage prop Could hardly get open if you were a bottle of pop I stay cool with fans, heads spin like hands on a clock Man when it comes to sh** to say, you know I got a lot But most don't comprehend Because their head is hard in a soft spot I just wanna get mine And if I have to rip through every person in the universe And beyond to get a response from anybody, honey it's fine Read the sign, listen to me and feed your mind And please don't rhyme That's a part of your life you need to leave behind We're gonna rebuild, start from scratch (So you feel like brand new 'Cause the way you actin' right now I just can't stand you) [Chorus 2] People say for some young bucks y'all is on some next sh** (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) They be like, damn kid, really what did you eat for breakfast? (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) I know it's hard to follow this sh** just takes a couple seconds (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) Yo if you ain't got dough for the show talk to me I'll put you on the guest list (funk off the hook I leave sh** disconnected) [Scratching] (Oh yeah!) [Verse 3] I'm under your skin (skin) Over your head (head) On your mind Off the wall, outrageous, in depth All of that and a bag of chips Mixed with windex To rinse and rid your unworthy mouth Of my name-staining residue You wet my shoes with your tears You better move, disappear or I'ma get some shears and snip your ears I'm crystal clear with my instruction You're part of something that at it's best potential is Still left to nothin I k** pets It must be an illness I'm obsessed with [?] and neutered My ambition's cooler So why would I listen to yours? My words disturb your whole crew Two members huddled, disgruntled they Found their buddies drowned in a puddle of their own drool Let me help you, melt you Mold you, hold you, fold you Fail you, told you Pal you know whose flows pulls off Skeleton stamps And imprints welts on your brain With my championship belt Hope you Felt The pain [Outro] Okay, can I have everybody's attention please? Yeah thanks, yeah thank you for your attention Now, this next object for sale is a male motormouth I don't know about the details of this fine young tongue Twisting rap guy but since I've been in retail sellin' wack guys I've found they're good for helping you fall sound asleep And they're perfect freak show circus acts This guy's height is five seven Weight: one-sixty-two pounds His mouth makes nifty new sounds And my crew found he's a well-rounded failure Yeah he's a well-rounded failure Anyways, this peasant's stage presence is good Mic control's alright although it could and should be better However, his breath is the best I guess his lyrical content is there and he's got a little style He doesn't often swear and his voice is smooth It won't get annoying to you for a while Now that's a little background I'ma start the bidding at fifty pieces Too much? Are you kidding? The weakest got sold for forty so this shorty's the cheapest We just got him fresh out the club So pay, come on and get him He'll behave and do anything you say, obey Just whip him okay, we got fitty over here Do I hear a fitty-five, fitty-five, sixty Come on I need this thing gone Sixty sixty boom! My man on the left got sixty Who! Got sixty five on this sh**ty jive talking Jabber jaw droppin' dirt ball called an emcee Ooh I see seventy Seventy's high, going once! Going twice! Seventy going for the last time Aaaaaaand Sold! To the old rich guy with the turntables Now, don't scribble sloppily when you write my check Just come take your property and we can move on To the next object for sale