Specifics - Fresh lyrics

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Specifics - Fresh lyrics

Its the rougher Rhymer slash hustler subscriber I stumble from under covers to plain clothes by the time Most other folks luncheon My line of work don't require nothing like punching the clock I talk right off top, mic'ed, on topic or all live Im trying to find a spot in the tropic Come off it, nah truly This sh** is like rap video shoot without the total treats Unique the way he rips any kind of paper Do his duty to confine the data from a faker Plagiarizer please take a skydeezy from a scraper Im fiending for the cherry vapor Very high Carry my merry men to the airy sky valkyries prepare to die Or however you pronounce it, ive been in areas with hairy ounces Buried in some coffee grounds When he go to get a cup of joe, get astounded Think i seen a pound of green in the folger's brown So you found it Better go to town and start breaking up, i'm saying son Baking is the best park of waking up The business Need to ship it, dip it in some folger's Even the most cultured doberman couldn't sniff it They missed it Well heck, i'm liking this system Smells fresh, exciting Its so exciting to me (coates) Yo two seven percent forties are the irish jetpacks And my incredible hulk innards will fight setbacks Mount really where cold winters are froze stiller Icicles in his speech homie im mad chiller When he cam to the fork in the road, headed straight to the space whip Birds eye view of the prose, rhymes like a lightbulb with no switch Scratch every January holding no chips Puffy coates is a herbalist on a mission to make weed immediately Thought he was a journalist, so blitzed Must have put the stash in the folgers Supernova sighting on the couch in a coma If i don't get some f**in vitamin d sippin the grey sky Heineken where is the sky hiding at And for the dust on my mpc lets make em envy Sunset rider train level boss pistol dueling Slick rolling dive behind boxes while im shooting Both hands drooling fat yellow slugs slow movement Laid back coolin on the track metal slug music Batter up for x factor, who's in it for the chedder only when they need To use it And which crew's got my back now from the ruthless ruin of the Stackhound Boot it up the cut with the cracked valve cooing Sounding like cats and the raccoons scrapping out back of old shacks On the mountian Cut me slack or be found in the fountain Let the track breathe Get to howling

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